Fire Emblem Fantasy Battle: Opposite Sides of the Coin
by TheHalberdier
Summary: The Old World is but a land created by a species known only in legend as the Old Ones. When they walked among their creations, the Old Ones created gateways that connected their worlds, before Chaos corrupted them. A chance encounter between Emperor Karl-Franz and the Spiderclaw tribe in the Bloodpine forest leads to a dormant uncorrupted gate reigniting once more.
1. Chapter 0

**Author's Note:**

I am a decently massive Warhammer Fantasy fan and wanted to give a shot writing fanfiction myself. I am also a fan of Fire Emblem Three Houses, I enjoyed my many playthroughs of the game immensely. Eventually, with the encouragement of others, I decided to give it a shot and write out a crossover of these two series. I am not a veteran writer, that is evident, but I never turn away from a good challenge. I had a fiction writing course back when I was still a college student sure, but I wanted to do something more of a passion project than an assignment I was forced to do. For those of you in the know of Warhammer Fantasy Battle, I am taking things both from the tabletop lore Games Workshop gave, and some stuff from Creative Assembly's Total War Warhammer games. I am doing this mainly as a massive commemoration to Warhammer Fantasy as a whole, and to celebrate its return. If I screw up immensely, do let me know I am willing to hear thoughts out of where I accidentally misplaced a word or accidentally used improper wording. I am trying to self edit these, but I am not the greatest at it. With that out of the way a disclaimer, I do not own any of the copyrighted material used in this piece of fiction. I claim no ownership to the settings and canonical characters within this story, all that I claim to be somewhat mine are any original characters used, and the storyline itself. All copyrights are owned by their respective companies. I hold no rights to profit off the works of others; this is a small passion project. With that out of the way, please enjoy.

* * *

**Author's note 2:**

I have recently acquired an editor, she has edited this chapter to help it flow better. I plan on making further use of her in future chapters.

* * *

**Preamble:**

This is a dark age, a bloody age, an age of daemons and of sorcery. It is an age of battle and death, and of the world's ending. Amidst all of the fire, flame and fury it is a time, too, of mighty heroes, of bold deeds and great courage.

At the heart of the Old World sprawls the Empire, the largest and most powerful of the human realms. Known for its engineers, sorcerers, traders and soldiers, it is a land of great mountains, mighty rivers, dark forests and vast cities. And from his throne in Altdorf reigns the Emperor Karl Franz, sacred descendant of the founder of these lands, Sigmar, and wielder of his magical warhammer Ghal Maraz.

But these are far from civilised times. Across the length and breadth of the Old World, from the knightly palaces of Bretonnia to ice-bound Kislev in the far north, come rumblings of war. In the towering Worlds Edge Mountains, the Orc tribes are gathering for another assault. Bandits and renegades harry the wild southern lands of the Border Princes. There are rumours of rat-things, the Skaven, emerging from the sewers and swamps across the land. And from the northern wildernesses, there is the ever-present threat of Chaos, of Daemons and Beastmen corrupted by the foul powers of the Dark Gods. As the time of battle draws ever near, the Empire needs heroes like never before.

* * *

**Prologue: Gate of the Bloodpine Woods**

_"I am Karl-Franz, and I was born into this world, just like you." – His royal majesty Emperor Karl-Franz of Reikland_

It was the Imperial year 2517, and the dark maroon trees of the forest were drowned in an ocean of blood and guts of men and goblins. For the longest of time, these woods housed greenskins raiding the province of Reikland lead by the shaman Raknik. The Spiderclaw tribe proved to be a massive thorn in the side of the Elector Count of Reikland and current Emperor Karl-Franz von Holswig Schliestein. Having to deal with raids on your own province was nothing new in the Empire, but to his fellow elector counts, it was a sign of weakness for the Emperor. After all, how could the current Emperor hope to defend the Empire from threats to other provinces, if he could not handle a few goblins within his own? Such was the standpoint of his most significant political rivals including the Elector Count of Middenland Boris Todbringer, whom Karl Franz narrowly beat in the election for Emperor fifteen years prior. To quell such thoughts, there was only one option open to Karl-Franz.

Kill Raknik and the Spiderclaw tribe.

There were other issues in his reign that prevented him from settling this sooner. The Norscan raiders that were plaguing the province of Nordland needed to be dealt with, and the empire required defence from the invasions of the Bretonnians, who were livid at the words of the Mad Count of Averland. Such matters were dealt with now, so his focus could return to his home province. In the Bloodpine Woods, he finally got a chance at putting down the Goblin Shamon that cursed his lands.

Karl-Franz would splatter that Shaman with the holy war hammer, Ghal Maraz.

When the two armies clashed, the result was a blood bath. To a sane man, the sight would be horrifying: men cleaved in half, boys crying out for their mothers as they slowly bleed to death on the field, and that was if they were lucky. Some poor souls ended up being [or as] food for Raknik's spider or simply twisted apart by his foul magic.

The battle so far had not been a short one, not even for his Reiksguard knights (whether they be of the imperial foot or cavalry), and they had this sight to accompany them all day."

Yet even as the screams of his own men thundered into his head, Karl-Franz had no choice but to end this battle. "The last few goblins, including Raknik, huddled near an odd golden arch. From the looks of it, the appearance of this arch made it seem it would fit better in Lustria than in the core of the Old World; if what Karl heard from his Huntsmarshall Markus Wulfhart was true anyhow. None of this mattered though, his Empire needed him now, and so he would go forth and kill the Shaman. Though he had been wounded previously in the day, his trusty Griffon named Deathclaw defended his master for three hours until help arrived, and he would not let his injuries get in the way of slaying the goblin.

As Karl-Franz flew off towards the Shaman, his Reiksguard followed shortly behind. To the common soldier, the inseparable duo of Karl-Franz and Deathclaw was as awe-inspiring as the tales of the first Emperor and patron god of the Empire Sigmar Heldenhammer.

With righteous fury in the heart of Karl-Franz, the brave Emperor raised the mighty war hammer Ghal Maraz and shouted for all to hear one name, "SIGMAR!"

Deathclaw landed right near the shaman who was huddled near the structure; Karl-Franz meant to take the head of the blighted creature but missed by but a hair. From this distance, the Price of Aldorf could hear the words of the Shaman before him with clarity and his eyes slightly dilated.

They were the final chants of a spell.

Before Karl could react, the shaman had finished his casting and, the Emperor could only hope that his silver seal would protect him from whatever magics this greenskin scum used. Though to Karl's surprise, nothing came from the spell. "Humie zoggers!" His goblin foe yelled as he raged on his mount. The sight amused the Emperor let out a small chuckle, reminding him of some of his old antics when he was but a teen. As he rose the mighty war hammer high to finish the goblin off as Deathclaw and the spider took blows at one another, he saw a strange light coming from the arch that he and the goblin were under.

The Emperor stopped and looked, confusion on his face as the light grew more prominent. "By the comet…" muttered Karl Franz before he and the goblin were in the middle of a hole rifting reality.

* * *

It was a rather peaceful day at Garreg Mach Monastery. The students of the Officer's Academy were excited, the end of their year here was fast approaching, and soon they would be cast off into the reality of Fódlan. Overall the setting was rather carefree, the most significant controversy, if one could call it that, was Professor Johann von Tilly retiring, being replaced by Jurgen von Richthofen.

Jurgen was known to be rather craven for a knight of a noble house if the rumours around him were to be believed. His personal skill was remarkable; there was no doubt about that, which was why Professor Johann recommended that Jurgen take his place at the Officer's Academy, but Seteth did not approve of this man still. To Seteth, the reports of his fellow knights painted a picture of a man who was more interested in skirt chasing than his own duties and would run at the first sight of conflict. These two factors alone would already dampen his trust in the new professor, but with Flayn joining the monastery in but a few short months? Seteth couldn't help but wonder what the Archbishop was thinking. Sure he understood that the house of Tilly had considerable clout in the Adrestian Empire and that his family supported the Church of Seiros. Those facts made appeasing them the best hope the Church had at mending the schism in the Empire due to their political clout, but that didn't mean Seteth had to like it. He knew there were limited options open to the Church of Seiros, so when Lady Rhea asked for his advice of what to do, he went against his core instincts and accepted the request.

It wasn't like an investigation on Jurgen von Richtofen didn't occur, and should he endanger the students in abandoning them on any missions they were sent out to, at the very least the damage of removing him would be mitigated as much as possible. Perhaps a task during the Horsebow Moon would be an excellent way to test the new professor. It would be the start of the new year, which would mark the induction of new students to the Officer's Academy. In many ways this year was more critical than all others he had served at Garreg Mach. It was quite a shock to see the list of names that the three nations had submitted to be the heads of the houses to the Officer's Academy. Edelgard von Hresvelg, Dimitri Blaiddyd, and Claude von Riegan; all three of these names had one thing in common.

They were all heirs of their respective nations.

The Leicester Alliance, The Holy Kingdom of Fearghus, and the Adrestian Empire all surrounded Garreg Mach, which served as a neutral buffer nation to the three great powers of Fódlan, and the central religious authority. For centuries the three ruling powers had been at peace, though tensions were rising in the Empire the church hoped that the upcoming year could fully heal the schism made between the Empire and the Church.

"Greetings sir Seteth, something to report! Archbishop Rhea requires your presence at the northern balcony, she was rather insistent about it!" Came a rather cheerful voice outside his office. Seteth recognised it as Albein von Rudolf, the gatekeeper of the monastery.

Seteth stood up with an arched eyebrow. It would usually be Alois that would be notifying him that Rhea required him, and even then it would be in the audience hall. After Albein delivered the message, he hunched over and panted like an exhausted dog in the summer. It was clear to Seteth that all these facts together added up to one solution.

Whatever Rhea wanted him for, it was a matter of utmost importance.

"I'll be right there then," Seteth made his way to the doorway of his office and looked at Albein "go back to the gates. If anything were to threaten the monastery, it would be better to have its best gatekeeper back at his post."

Albien smiled and saluted Seteth, "Leave it to me, Sir!" The young gatekeeper of the monastery ran off once more, with the spirit of a hundred men following him. Most people actually liked Albien; he was cheerful, supportive, and easy to get along with. Granted his job at gatekeeper could better be described as a greeter in these times, but that made his soul all the better fit for the role.

"What could have happened…" Seteth rubbed his chin while walking to where Rhea had beckoned him.

Whatever it was for, attending to the issue could not be delayed.

* * *

"Ah Seteth, I am glad you arrived so quickly." The voice of the archbishop sprang out. Even to Seteth, Lady Rhea still had an aura about her that radiated a sort of calmness. To many, Rhea was the motherly, if not the slightly imposing, leader of the Church of Seiros. Her hair, a much lighter shade of green than his own, reflected the light of the sun even though it was dusk out. With her appearance combined with her beautiful clothing of whites with a tinge of gold and dark blues, it was hardly a wonder why she could be considered imposing by looks alone.

Seteth gave a small bow to the Archbishop, "What is the matter, Lady Rhea? Has something happened?"

Rhea let a small frown come to her lips as she waved her hand to the north, near the border of the kingdom. "You remember the strange golden structure that has stood near here since time immemorial?"

Seteth raised an eyebrow as he felt the hairs on his chin stand at alert, "I do, I am sure the others would also still remember it after all these years. It always was an odd sight." A golden arch with strange symbols, who could forget such a sight? Some people believed it was a monument created by the goddess, others assumed it was made by the first denizens of the land.

Others considered it a creation long before the goddess came to these lands.

Regardless of its origin, Seteth was confused, "Lady Rhea has something occurred near the structure?"

In response, Rhea pointed towards the structure directly and Seteth walked over to get a better view. At first, nothing seemed quite odd, but then he squinted his eyes more and then he saw it. Where before the arches stood there alone, now in the middle was an unusual greenish portal.

Then a large wing protruded from it.

"By the goddess…" whatever Seteth was seeing coming from the portal, it had to be contained. It could be some sort of Demonic Beast, or perhaps worse. Words were unnecessary as he knew what Rhea wanted of him. He rushed out of the balcony as he began to gather the Knights.

* * *

When Karl-Franz came to his vision was split in two. To his left was the Bloodpine Woods, his men and goblins dying as they clashed and cleaved at each other. His right though was a near open plane, with a cathedral possibly in the distance?

Before Karl could question what he saw again, Raknik's mount took a swing at the Reikland Emperor, barely missing thanks to the alertness of Deathclaw. With the arm of the spider still extended, Deathclaw swiped at the arm and cleaved it off.

The spider roared in pain as Raknik tumbled to the plains before him. Karl leapt off his mount. A Griffon was more than a match for the mount of the Shaman, and the goblin needed to be eliminated. "Raknik…" Karl-Franz was livid, he gripped Ghal Maraz tight as he could see the fear in the goblin's eye. "You killed my people, assaulted my towns, raided my roads. You have taken the lives of many good people merely trying to survive for your own twisted ambitions! You threatened my empire, the lands founded by Sigmar after he drove you greenskins from our lands! Your existence ends here!"

The Shaman held out his hands shaking, his eyes were as wide as dinner plates. "Wait, wait! Humie it was all-"

The goblin never got to finish his statement. Ghal Maraz came down upon him, sending chunks of goblin around staining his furlined cloak. A large thud could be heard as soon after Deathclaw had finished his target. The head of the spider had been ripped off by the Emperor's trusty Griffon, and for once Karl felt relaxed. The wounds from earlier that day were finally catching up to him, as he fell to his arse, the grass felt nice as if one could fall asleep and feel safe on it. In a way, it was like his childhood bed, but he was no child, and the woods were never a safe place to take a nap. Not as if someone like him could be allowed to rest anyway, that would be selfish of him.

Behind him, Karl heard the clopping of a horse and the clunk of someone dismounting. A hand extended from behind him "Need a hand, my Emperor?"

Karl smiled as he took the hand that had reach out for him. Pulling himself up as he looked at the one who helped, the walking moustache who had served as his Reiksmarshall for years. "Could have used it earlier Kurt, but Deathclaw and I managed."

Kurt Helborg's moustache twitched, and an indication that the rather old Reiksmarshal was smiling. He had served for nearly sixty years at this point and had proven himself extremely loyal to not only Karl-Franz but his father, Luitpold, when he served as Emperor. "My apologies my Emperor, but when you flew off, the Reiksguard still had to make their way through the hoard on their own."

Franz let out a laugh and shook his head, Kurt always was a good friend, even before he was Emperor. With his oldest ally near him, Karl looked back to the strange structure off in the distance. "It doesn't look like it belongs to the Church of Sigmar, doesn't it?"

"If it did, Volkmar would have had a heart attack." The Reiksmarshall chuckled as fingered his moustache. "Though you did almost do the same to him before, after your conversation with the Bretonnians."

Franz remembered that day well, how the Grand Theogonist nearly denounced him for chatting with a Bretonnian and said _'Get your heathen nonsense out of that chair and away from this temple!'_ Looking back, the Emperor could have picked a better phrasing for his words. "Doesn't look like one to Taal or Ulric either, the architecture doesn't match."

"Could the structure be Bretonnian then, after all, they worship a so-called 'Lady of the Lake,' if I am not mistaken." Kurt's head hung low as he thought about the sight before him more.

"No, the structure still somewhat match cathedrals in the Empire, it just seems odd." Franz rubbed his chin a few more times and closed his eyes. "This could be the Border Princes, but that raises the question as which church owns that cathedral."

"In the name of the Church of Seiros, halt where you are!" A loud voice boomed out from behind them, sending birds flying away in terror.

Karl and Kurt turned around unphased by the booming voice, the two of them had killed much more substantial, and louder creatures before and few things could phase the veterans of many horrible battles. At the forefront of a small formation were knights adorned in armour that seemed to be an accumulation of armour of Imperial and Bretonnian make. Some were on horseback, others were on foot. The final one to arrive though was ridding on a small wyvern. The man had extremely odd dark green hair with striking emerald eyes, the fact he wore well-made clothes was also an oddity. His wyvern was most certainly different from the beasts the Orcs chose to ride, especially as it eyed Deathclaw with fear, utterly nonstandard for a wyvern. Deathclaw roared, and the formation of knights stepped back mumbling.

Clearly, they have never seen an Imperial Griffon before.

The green-haired man seemed the most unphased though, as he merely pointed his lance at Karl. "You will identify yourselves now."

The Reikland Emperor thought of his position. Kurt held the Soland runefang at his hip, ready to take it out if necessary. Though to the perspective of these people, here was an unknown force that appeared in the middle of their territory. Though he was sure that if this was anywhere in the Old World, that the mere sight of his hammer was more than enough to show who he was. Yet these people still looked at him confused, as if he were no different from a common invader. "I am Karl-Franz, Emperor of Man, Elector Count of Reikland, Prince of Altdorf, and I could go on with titles, but I doubt they would mean anything to you all. I apologise for the intrusion, my army and I were merely dealing with a goblin infestation in my own province when their leader opened up this portal here." The Emperor waved to the structure that had taken him there in the first place. "The shaman in question though is quite unable to answer your questions, as he is quite dead."

The Emperor waved his hands to the corpse of Raknik, and the green-haired man glared at the body for a few moments. "Yes, I can see that Emperor Franz."

That was a rather odd way of addressing him, and Karl could still see the man trying to read him. "Just Karl is fine, this is hardly a formal event, and I arrived here unannounced. Though I would wish to know who I am conversing with right now."

The green-haired Wyvern rider looked at Franz for a few more moments before lightening his gaze. "I am Seteth, a servant of Lady Rhea, Archbishop to the Church of Seiros."

That was a name that made Karl double take for a second. At first, he thought Seteth was referring to Rhya, but the pronunciation was slightly different and held an unusual reverence in it. Though that raised more questions, just what was this Church of Seiros, who were these people, and now that this gate leads to the heart of his province, were they a threat to his people? There was only one way to answer these questions, "It appears that we are both in the dark about each other then. I suggest a meeting with this 'Rhea' as a way to clear the clouds of doubt about each other that we both hold to us. As a sign of trust, I am willing to meet this individual on your terms."

Kurt looked at Karl wide-eyed and shocked. "My Emperor, are you sure that is wise? Going into the heart of an unknown forces' territory, surrounded by their own troops?"

"And they know even less about us, trust is a two-way street after all. If we want any hope of showing we mean no harm, it would be better for them to meet them on their terms. That and we technically are trespassers."

Karl saw Seteth think over this for a moment, his hands rubbing over his thin beard. "Very well, if you do genuinely wish to show you mean no trouble, I have little issue with you meeting with Lady Rhea. Though your griffon is not allowed near the monastery, we will permit you to keep a small guard."

Karl nodded as he looked to Kurt, "Call the inner circle, they should be more than enough to act as a guard for my time there. Afterwards, secure the gate, we can't let anything unwanted going through."

Kurt placed his hands on his chest. "Very well, my Emperor, it will be done."

Karl nodded as his Reiksmarshall ran out to fulfil his orders. Kurt was his most trustworthy commander, and whatever task he gave him, the Sword of Vengence did his duty to the letter.

Now though Karl waited, it would be some time before he would move out.

* * *

"Ah Seteth, you have returned," a woman with light green hair, that Karl guessed was Rhea, smiled at Seteth. Compared to him she wore clothes more befitting of a religious head, like a brighter version of the Grand Theoganist. Though considering her counterpart was called the Grim, that was hardly a massive accomplishment. "And you have brought a guest as well…"

Karl looked at Rhea, who was studying him, no doubt trying to read the man clad head to toe with ornate plate mail. It was bolder than standard mail, to help personify him as a leader of few equals. Though each of the divine praises to Sigmar caused her to cringe. No doubt she was a religious head, but this situation was nothing new for Karl. "Allow me to introduce myself, your eminence. I am Karl-Franz von Holswig Schliestein, Emperor of the Empire of Man, Elector Count of Reikland, Prince of Altdorf, and wielder of Ghal Maraz. It is a pleasure to meet you, though I do wish this were over better circumstances."

Rhea smiled as she heard Karl's words. Though her face hardened once more as if to put up a front. "I see, That would make you a foreigner to these lands would it not?"

Karl nodded once more. "Indeed it would, as I highly doubt this the Old World."

Rhea appeared confused at the words 'Old World' as if the term was utterly alien to her. Seteth was equally as confused as her. Though to her credit, she was able to shake her confusion quickly, "The continent of Fódlan has existed since time immemorial, protected by the divine goddess Sothis from all threats. Three significant powers now exist, all guided into an age of peace and harmony all in the visage the goddess foretold."

Franz read her more and felt something was amiss one way or another, though that could be mainly due to a lack of information on his part. The two parties here knew next to nothing about themselves and were exceptionally on edge as it were. "And you consider me to be a possible threat, am I wrong?"

Rhea closed her eyes as she inhaled. "You are a power from an unknown land. For all I know, you want nothing more than to desecrate this monastery and burn it down in the name of some dark gods."

_'Like I look like a Norscan raider.'_ Franz thought as he looked out from the meeting hall the parties resided in right now. What he saw was what appeared to be adolescence leaving classrooms to a dormitory. This was the best look he had at them now as the path Seteth had taken him on was guarded against any onlookers seeing him. "Tell me, those children down there in uniforms. Are they part of some sort of academy?"

Seteth raised an eyebrow at the change of topic. "They are students at the Officer's Academy here at Garreg Mach. All of them hail from the three mighty nations of the continent to form three houses. This is to imbue a sense of trust between the nations."

Karl-Franz smiled at this news. Any information was useful to the chess master of Reikland, and this is exactly something he wanted to hear. "I have a proposition then if you would, as a way to show the Empire of Man has nothing but the best of intentions during these trying times."

Rhea perked up at this information, her eyebrows raised as her hands clasped at her chest. "Oh, and what would that be?"

The Prince of Altdorf merely smiled; he knew exactly what needed to be done.

* * *

Karl-Franz's return to the Imperial Palace of Altdorf had calmed the tide of fear that dwelled in his Reiksmarshal. The Emperor had once again gone deep into the home of an unknown power to parley. First, it was with the Bretonnian King, Leon Leoncoeur, then secondly with the Wood Elves of Athel Loren. The Emperor had heard his Reiksmarshal's protests before, and this stage, it was something drowned out with the usual administrative duties his titles entailed.

Karl marched down the halls of the Imperial palace; the halls were lined with statues of the previous Emperors before him, some more extravagant than others. The most numerous and elaborate were depictions of heroes like Magnus the Pious, Mandred Skavenslayer, and of course Sigmar Heldenhammer. On occasion, one would see a statue of the lesser-known, and infamous Emperor's, such as Ludwig the Fat, Boris Goldgather or Dieter IV. There was even a statue of Karl's father, Luitpold, sometimes called the mad by those who knew of him. Though Karl stopped at one figure today, sculpture to the first of the Griffon Emperors of Reikland, Wilhelm III also called Wilhelm the Wise.

Wilhelm the Wise was the first Emperor of Karl-Franz's own line, known for establishing a modernised communication system, and series of roads still in use to this day. Wilhelm III was an odd man by Imperial standards. While many of his reforms of the empire were accepted by the electors, some of them were seen as too extreme. He never did accomplish all of his goals in his life, such as the reconquest of Marienburg, but he was Emperor nonetheless.

Karl-Franz smiled as he looked at the statue. It was his hope that he was doing the best for his people every day that he ruled over them. Every hour he spent listening to a minor noble, making a request, every minute he led his men on the battlefield, and every second spent accepting the legislation of his domain. His people may never know what he does for them, but that was never needed for the Prince of Altdorf. As he pondered more, Karl wondered what he would be remembered most as. The most celebrated reformer of the age? A renowned commander of soldiers? The last ruler of civilisation? Who really knew in these troubled times though? Before Franz could regain his focus, however, something shook the Imperial Palace.

An explosion rang from the quarters of the royal family.

Rather than Reiksguard rushing over to secure the area and assure the royal family was safe, the current guards of the Emperor groaned. "He's at it again, my Emperor."

Franz knew who his guards were referring to, in fact, it was that individual in particular whom he going to before stopping to muse. As Karl made his way to the source of the explosion, the smell of smoke and gunpowder filled the air. The sulphur assaulting the noses of all those who approached. From the crevasses of a wooden door, poured through the source of this besiegement of smell. The sound of metal crashing to the floor and glass shattering could be heard from the other side as Franz approached the door. As he stood before it, he heard stomping from the other side coming from the room's occupant. "Blast and damnation!" the voice yelled out, the sound of frantic stomping occupying it, "I should have used less combustible materials!"

As Karl-Franz opened the door, what he saw wanted to make him sigh. In the room was his youngest son, no older than seventeen, dressed in a leather apron, blacksmith gloves, and a converted sallet with its visor extended down to cover more of the face. His son did not notice Karl open the door to his room, too busy stomping out a small fire with his leather boots, a gift from the bright college for the Emperor to try and gain favour with him. The light was quickly extinguished as the stomping died down. A sigh escaped the lips of Karl's son as lifted the visor of his helmet. "Wilhelm-Franz von Holswig Schliestein."

Wilhelm shot up and whipped around. His eyes were as wide as dinner plates as he looked at his father. "Father, this isn't what it looks like!" Wilhelm frantically raised his hands, his left still missing a pinkie finger, "I didn't get injured this time I promise, I hid behind the wall just like you said I should!" Wilhelms arms frantically pointed to a large metal sheet hastily put up in the room, behind it were some blacksmith tools, a rather cheap bed, and a workbench. To most nobles, the room was an insult, to Wilhelm though, it was precisely what he asked of his father. Every request over the years confused the Reikland Emperor, but he still gave it, much cheaper requests than what his first son wanted after all.

"I didn't come over due to that Wilhelm," Karl said as he collected himself, "I was already coming over to you."

Wilhelm raised an eyebrow as his head jolted back. "You aren't here to yell at me?" Wilhelm's voice was full of confusion, perhaps Karl-Franz yelled at him one too many times in the past for his passion, but he did go a bit overboard at times. "Then what did you want of me, father?"

"To give you this." Karl extended a letter to his son. Wilhelm took the note in his hands and began opening it up "Consider it a surprise gift."

At those words, Wilhelm's eyes lit up as a grand smile covered his face. As he began opening the letter, Karl felt a tinge of guilt. He didn't give what Wilhelm wanted after all. As the message unfurled in the hands of Wilhelm, his face turned from excitement to confusion, to finally anger. Wilhelm looked at his face, a scowl now adorning his face as his blue eyes stared at him like icy daggers.

"Father, what is this."

"An invitation to join an officer's academy," Karl said, maintaining his composure, "you always wanted higher-level education did you not?"

Wilhelm's teeth clenched tight as his stare focused, "At the Engineering college of Nuln father!" Wilhelm threw up his hands, dropping the letter, "Not some academy to train your next batch of cannon fodder!"

Karl-Franz knew this was coming, Wilhelm never was the soldiering type after all. Where Luitpold practised the sword, Wilhelm studied the gun. Where Luitpold studied military strategy, Wihelm read scientific books. Where Luitpold learned of politics, Wilhelm experimented with combustion. "Wilhelm, hear me out for a moment."

"Hear you out!?" Wilhelm's voice shook the room ever so slightly, "You want me to go to some Sigmar forsaken officer's academy, and you want me to hear you out!? Where even is this 'Garreg Mach Monastery?' Is it even in the Empire?"

Karl merely blinked at his own son's verbal assault, he had received and given much worse in the past, but retorting in rage now would get him nowhere. "Garreg Mach Monastery is in a land called Fódlan, and it has no affiliation with the Empire."

"Then why are you sending me to some foreign school? Is my existence that much of an embarrassment to you!?"

"No, Wilhelm." Franz needed to calm his son down, and he had to do it quickly. "I am sending you there because you are the only one I can trust."

Wilhelm did a double-take at this information, perhaps Karl should have started explaining things more to his son. "What's so special about this place that you need to send someone you trust, father?"

Karl took a deep breath as he grabbed a nearby stool to sit in. "It's a bit of a long story son, you might want to take a seat." As Karl sat down on his stool, Wilhelm sat across from him in the chair he usually kept at his desk. "When the Reiksguard and I went to quell a local goblin tribe in the Bloodpine Forest, we cornered the goblins to an odd golden structure. When I went to challenge the shamen in single combat, it appeared the spell misfired, and activated the archway. What we found out was the archway led to a faraway place called Fódlan, where the words of Sigmar hold no meaning."

"You accidentally trespassed on their lands, didn't you, father?" Franz had to give his son credit where it was due. He was bright when he wanted to be.

"Yes, we did. Naturally igniting conflict from another angle is not the most appealing idea in the world." Franz bent over and picked up the letter he initially gave Wilhelm. "Which is why I came up with a compromise. In order show the Empire has no interest in invading, as least for now, I promised to send someone I trusted as an 'exchange student.'"

Wilhelm leaned over and took the letter once more "And that person you trusted is me?"

"Yes." Karl honestly had few options. The more adept son was far too old to go and was managing his own barony, and any Reiksguard were also too venerable to send, even the fresh recruits from the grand tournament. "It would only be for a year, son, and I would be more than willing to award you for your assistance."

Wilhelm was honestly intrigued by the look on his face. Karl knew precisely what would get his son to comply, and that made him the most straightforward choice in the end. "What are you offering then, father?"

Franz smiled as he leaned back. "I will pay for every single thing you could ever need in the Engineering College of Nuln. Books, housing, food, tuition, whatever you need it shall be paid by me personally."

Wilhelm fell out of his chair at this point. Karl knew this went above and beyond his son's wildest dreams, and compared to placating some other noble's son with a title, this request was cheap. "You would do that, father? I help you with this, and you would do all that for me?" Franz nodded as he looked at his son. The sight of his boy lost in thought amused the Emperor and reminded him of the years before the raids from the Sea of Claws. "When would I leave?"

"Tomorrow morning. I would suggest you start packing right now." Franz stood up and walked back to the exit of the room. "I have also had servants prepare a care package, proper armour and weapons that would suit you best. You always did like firearms, after all."

Franz saw Wilhelm get up and begin looking over his clothes. If there was one thing he could credit his son for, was that he wasn't lazy. That and his spirit.

Tomorrow was going to be a big day for the young son of Karl-Franz.


	2. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

First of all, I would like to thank everyone for the early support, it pushed me into wanting to write more. I hope to improve with every chapter that comes out. Secondly, as I write chapters, I check my army books, wiki pages of both fandoms, and in-game information to try properly represent both series. I am not trying to make fanwank for one fandom to make it look better than another one. Its something I do not appreciate personally when I see it, and I want to avoid doing so here. I have also now hired an editor for this story who edited this chapter, and the new version of the previous one. She is a personal friend of mine and is far better at grammar than I. She will be helping me as I write this story to make it easier to read. She is also talking other commission right now and loves that when I give her free advertisement. If you have an interest in an editor, I can send you her rates and get you in contact with her via personal message.

This chapter the beginning of the story proper, prologues in my eyes should be used fo set up for the story. I have included some implications later on for the astute among you though. Now with the disclaimers. I do not own Warhammer Fantasy Battle if I did the End Times would either not have happened, or have been done differently. I also lack the ownership of Fire Emblem; otherwise, Fates would not have come out the same story-wise as it did. With that out of the way, enjoy.

* * *

**Chapter 1: A Griffon's Nest**

"_When I first arrived at Garreg Mach, what perplexed me more than anything were the 'Crests' they revered." - Prince Wilhelm-Franz of Reikland_

Carriage rides were ever so dull. Wilhelm already went through the most recent volume of "My Travels with Gotrek" by Felix Jaeger, and was now watching the countryside go by. Perhaps in his packing, he should have brought a second series to read along the way. His engineering texts were in a different carriage, and Kurt Helborg insisted the carriage never stop. Wilhelm understood why Uncle Kurt said that the woods were a dangerous place that house Beastmen, Goblins, Orcs and other nefarious creatures. The less time he and his guard were surrounded by forests, the less likely they were to face an ambush.

That didn't stop the boredom though.

Wilhelm stood up in his carriage and stretched as much as he could. It might have been a cramped space usually, but right now he was the only occupant. After cracking his seven fingers, Wilhelm's eyes rested on the care package his father loaded into the carriage. What little he knew of it, it was to service him over the year he would be away from Reikland. Wilhelm grabbed the care package and opened the case.

What he saw brought a smile to his face.

At the forefront was a repeater handgun, the construction consisted of intricate metalwork. Where most firearm's stock would be made of wood, this one was made of iron and steel, with gold plating. Wilhelm used this weapon a few times in the past. Firearms were easy to use when compared to even a spear, and to live in the empire and be completely unable to defend yourself would be ludicrous.

The other contents were less impressive.

There were some basic armour plates that could fit beneath clothes, the hammer that Wilhelm commonly used to work metal, and a few sets of black and gold outfits. Wilhelm picked up the clothes and began inspecting them. The clothes had strange symbols on them, most prominent was something reminiscent of High Elves of Ulthuan in design, though there were other symbols on it styled much in the same manner. In all the books Wilhelm read in his days, none of them referenced these symbols at all, and with how prominent they were on the uniform, at least one book should have referenced them. Perhaps they were of high significance to where he was going.

A note fell onto the ground of the carriage.

Wilhelm put down the uniform he was inspecting and grabbed the paper. The handwriting on the outside of the parchment matched his father's. "What could father have written?" Wilhelm sat back down and unfurled the letter.

"Dear Wilhelm," Wilhelm read aloud as he leaned back into his chair, "I have written this letter to help inform you about where you are going. I know at times you forget details you are given verbally, so I had this made for you. Hopefully, you are reading this before you arrive at Garreg Mach. I had your favourite rifle and hammer stored in here as from what I know of the Officer's Academy there, you will be put into combat missions for the church. The Church of Seiros, who runs the academy you are going to, tries teaching their students through both lectures and combat experience. I had some of their uniforms put into your care package as well, the symbols on them are depictions of holy 'Crests' as they call them. The ones on your outfit are of Seiros as mentioned earlier, and the Saints Cichol, Cethleann, Indech, and Macuil. I strongly recommend putting on the uniform before you arrive. I have also put in some armoured plates taken from the armoury for your use. I wouldn't want my son going into battle unprotected after all. Please write to me when you can, I won't be able to see you for the next year, and I want to have some assurance you are safe. If your life is in danger, I will send a relief force post-haste to protect you. May Sigmar preserve you, Dad."

"Protect me, huh?" Wilhelm scoffed. Knowing how entrenched in politics his father was, his core could only laugh at the words. Political beasts only cared about using others to advance their own stations from what he knew, and his father was no different. If his father was, he would still be there.

Wilhelm shook his head. He knew he needed to get over that incident, especially as it happened nine years ago. Dwelling in the past got him nowhere. At least science couldn't anger him like politics. Still, Wilhelm began undressing. He was going to be forced to change anyway, might as well spare himself the yelling.

The uniform itself was rather comfortable to put on. The material it was made from was oddly soft compared to what he wore daily. Perhaps Fódlan had access to a lot of silk? Usually, silk would need to be traded from Cathay. Now it was but a day away, with Reikland having a monopoly on access to trade from the continent. The merchant class is going to have a heyday with this news.

What took up most of his time though was the armour plating. Each piece had to be strapped on and latched. The parts of metal clung to Wilhelm as tightly as his mother, but he had to admit, the armour made him feel safe. And much to his fortune, the uniform actually prevented the armour from chaffing against him. He had to give credit to the creators of the clothes, they were oddly functional.

With the final piece strapped on, Wilhelm looked over himself. The Griffons crosses and twin-tailed comets of the metal were visually at war with the Crests of the Church of Seiros. Yet oddly, he found the visual clash fitting. Here was a Reikland Prince, willingly going off to a foreign land and learning their ways. As his uniform clashed among itself, he would likely contrast with the locals there. Perhaps Wilhelm might find common ground among them and create something better like his look now. He might be a bit too idealistic for his own good though.

"Prince Wilhelm," The voice of the guard echoed through the door as the carriage came to a halt, "We have arrived."

A sigh escaped Wihelm's lips, "Very well." Wilhelm made his way over to the door and took a deep breath. He might as well get this over with.

* * *

"Ah, so you must be Wilhelm-Franz von Holswig Schliestein. Your father, Karl, informed me about you." Wilhelm currently was in a small office, in front of him was who he assumed was Seteth. His father described Seteth and Rhea to him before he left, but seeing him in person just confused the young prince of Reikland. "On behalf of the Church of Seiros, I welcome you to Garreg Mach."

Seteth's hand extended to Wilhelm. Rather than taking it and shaking it, Wilhelm's curiosity won out. "What sort of dye did you use?"

"What did you say?"

"I haven't seen hair that shade of green before!" Wilhelm explained, barely containing his glee. "It's so dark yet also looks like it belongs there! And you have it in on your eyebrows and beard! Then those students who had vibrant oranges and cool blues! Where can I get that dye? I want to go for a deep red!"

Seteth stared blankly at Wilhelm for a minute. Perhaps he should have had better self-control here. His father was used to his antics, but Seteth was a stranger. A minute passed as the two stared at each other until Seteth started to laugh. For someone who appeared severe and stern, Wilhelm was taken aback a bit but felt at ease at the same time. Seteth took a deep breath before looking back at Wilhelm, "This is my natural hair colour actually. Though I should thank you for both the compliment and the laugh, it has been a long time since I found something funny."

Wilhelm gave a sheepish grin, "I am sorry if I came off as rude, I am just not used to the sights is all."

Seteth nodded and smiled at Wilhelm, "It's understandable. When I met your father and his various 'Reiksguard' as he called them, all their appearances seemed uniform to each other. As if a particular look was mandated for a specific fancy."

Wilhelm rubbed his chin and closed his eyes. "Well, there is one knightly order that requires all the knights to be really tall."

Seteth lost his composure again and gave a small laugh. "Perhaps we should return to our original conversation." Seteth smiled as his persona collected itself.

"Oh right," Wilhelm extended his hand out and nodded his head down, "I am Wilhelm, and thank you for the greeting."

Seteth shook Warren's hand and nodded back. "As you know you will be attending Garreg Mach for a year. Usually, students would be turned down for such a late application to the Officer's Academy; however, we both know your situation is far from normal."

Wilhelm nodded, a significant power suddenly and without warning is most definitely not something one could account for. "What can you tell me about this officer's academy? What my father told me was that it was an academy run by the Church of Seiros where students from across your continent converge at."

"The Garreg Mach Officer's Academy is indeed run and maintained by the Church of Seiros." Seteth procured pieces of parchment from within his desk and placed them out in front of Wilhelm. "The academy is separated into three major houses, each representing the three countries of Fódlan. The Blue Lions house students from the Holy Kingdom of Faerghus. This year they will be lead by Prince Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd, who is set to take the throne after his graduation here. Fearghus is to the north of the monastery and is close to the gate you came from. They have a proud tradition of knighthood for over 400 years since it was founded by Loog, the King of Lions."

Wilhelm chuckled at the words of Seteth and picked up the document on the kingdom. "Do they also have a tradition of Droit du seigneur and treat their peasants lower than dirt?"

"'The Lord's right'? I am impressed by your knowledge of old Faerghus,, but I am unfamiliar with that term." Seteth rubbed his chin and began to mumble, much lower than what Wilhelm could hear.

"It's Bretonnian, and it essentially means the Ruling lord has the right to sleep with the bride of a peasant before the husband from what I have read."

Seteth looked up at Wilhelm and stared for a few moments. "No, such a tradition does not exist, and neither does the treatment of the peasantry match. What sort of country would allow that?"

"The Kingdom of Bretonnia. A country to the west of the Empire obsessed with the ideals of chivalry and honour. They venerate a goddess they call 'The Lady of the Lake' quite ferociously."

Seteth sighed and rubbed his forehead. "Well, I am both intrigued and disappointed at the same time. Shall we continue with the other houses?"

"Of course, sorry for interrupting."

Seteth breathed in and refocused on Wilhelm. "The second major house of note is the Golden Deer. These students are from the Leicester Alliance, a land whose various lords rule the nations collectively with the head of the alliance being the Grand Duke. Claude von Riegan is the grandson and the next in line to the leadership of the alliance and will be joining the Officer's Academy at the head of the Golden Deer House."

Wilhelm picked up the papers on the alliance that was in front of him. _'They seem like if the Border Princes were a more unified country.'_

Seteth pushed the last set of papers in front of Wilhelm. "The last house is the one you will be joining. The Black Eagles contain students that hail from the Adrestian Empire, which is the oldest nation of Fódlan. They are going to be lead by Edelgard von Hresvelg, the future Emperor of the Adrestian Empire."

Wilhelm blinked and repeated the last words of Seteth in his head. His mouth moved on its own though. "Is there something you want to tell me, Sir Seteth?"

Seteth arched an eyebrow and tilted his head. "I'm sorry?"

"You said this Edelgard is the future Emperor, yes?" Seteth nodded as Wilhelm's mind felt like it was going to burst. "Yet the papers in front of me say Edelgard is female."

"That is correct." Seteth's eyes squinted as he leaned forward. "Is that a problem."

"Either this Edelgard has something dangling in reality, or you meant to say Empress."

Seteth went from angry to confused once more, "That word is odd, what is an 'Empress?' If you don't mind explaining."

Of all the things Wilhelm thought he would need to explain, this was not it. "It's the feminine equivalent to Emperor. Emperor is masculine while Empress is feminine."

"Fascinating," Seteth wrote something down a piece of paper nearby. "While my Adrestian common does not have a feminine version of Emperor, yours does. I am sure the library would be most interested in that information."

Adrestian common? Wilhelm thought Seteth was acting friendly by speaking Reikspiel. "If you're writing that down, you can refer to my dialect as Reikspiel. It is the language the Empire shares in its borders and is a sign of a common thread between the different provinces."

"Very well." Seteth finished writing down his notes and stood up. "If you will follow me, Professor Hanneman wanted to investigate if you had a Crest."

Again that with that word. What were these Crests that his father and now Seteth mentioned? Wilhelm scratched his chin as he stood up. "If you say so, but are these so-called 'Crests' and why would it matter if I had one?"

"It would probably be best left to Hanneman to explain." Seteth walked over to the exit of his office and waited for Wilhelm. "Fortunately his office neighbours my own, so you won't have to go long without knowing."

Wilhelm sighed as he walked over to Seteth, but sure enough, there was an office right next to Seteth's. As the two walked to the entrance, they saw an elderly gentleman with a monocle and blue eyes, not unlike Wilhelm's. His grey hair was neatly trimmed, and even his moustache looked refined. In fact, it could possibly be something that would make Uncle Kurt green with envy. His office varied from Seteth's in that there were more books contained within. From this distance, Wilhelm could not read the covers, though if he had to infer from what little he knew of Hanneman, they were on the subject of those 'Crests.'

"Oh, so you must be the new student joining us this year," The man now looking at Wilhelm smiled, "I am Hanneman, a Crest scholar and professor at the Officers Academy. Perhaps I will be you professor during your tutelage here?"

Seteth shook his head. "Prince Wilhelm has already been assigned to the Black Eagle house for his stay here."

"A pity," Hanneman's eyes dropped slightly downwards, "I am more fond of leading the Blue Lion house as it were." Hanneman stepped out from behind his desk and made his way over to Wilhelm. "Though that is of little consequence right now. What I am more curious about is if you bare an unknown crest of your own. While it is unlikely you possess one, as a scholar, it is my duty to investigate if your homeland might have Crests of their own."

"What even is a Crest?" Wilhelm held up his hands as he tilted his head. "I have heard this term a multitude of times now and I still don't know what they are."

"You don't know about Crests?" Wilhelm shook his head as Hanneman's eyes lit up. "Well, allow me to tell you everything-absolutely everything-about them!" Wilhelm instantly regretted the flood gate he had opened, so this is what it felt like to others when he got to talk about steam engines. "Before one can dive deeply into the topic of Crests, one must first understand what they are. They are power incarnate, said to have been bestowed upon by the goddess countless ages ago. They exist within the flesh and are passed down through bloodlines. Those who carry Crests may excel at magic, display exceptional strength, or any number of boons. Each Crest has its own power, the nature of which is beyond mortal understanding. For now."

Wilhelm rubbed his chin. From what little he read, this could be correlated to stories of the Grail Knights of Bretonnia, those who became the chosen of their Deity, The Lady of the Lake. They could also be related to the rumoured marks of gods that appear on the most devoted followers of the gods. There was one problem with that connection though.

Neither of those methods required a bloodline in theory.

Still, Wilhelm was willing to humour the scholar for now. "So you want to see if I possess one of these 'Crests' to expand your own research, am I wrong?"

Hanneman nodded. "That is precisely correct. If you had a Crest, this would allow more insight into their true nature. All I require of you is to hold out your arm over this device," Hanneman motioned to an odd interface that was moulded into the floor, "it is harmless I assure you."

Wilhelm shrugged as he did what was asked, and as he placed his hands over the device, he waited for something to happen.

Nothing happened.

"This was the likely outcome," Hanneman sighed and looked down, "and here I was hoping for something to happen."

"Perhaps Sigmar did not will it to happen."

The device showed a twin-tailed comet.

As the image faded away, Hanneman shot up and got closer. "Something just appeared right now! Whatever you said caused the device to react! Could you please repeat that name perhaps?"

Wilhelm looked intently at the device. Why would the holy twin-tailed comet appear on a tool meant to detect crests, based solely on the fact he uttered Sigmar's name? "Sigmar."

The comet returned once more.

"Remarkable!" Hanneman quickly procured a set of parchment and quill. His note-taking was as automated as the Altdorf Press. "It appears that the mere utterance of that name results in a symbol manifesting! Tell me, what is the significance of that name?"

Wilhelm arched an eyebrow at Hanneman. Had his father not explained who Sigmar was, or did the Church of Seiros simply not inform the entire staff at the Officer's Academy? "Sigmar is the founder of the Empire of Man. Born under a twin-tailed comet, he did many great things; he allied with the Dwarfs of the Karaz Ankor, pushed the greenskin menace out from the lands of the empire, repelled the first Everchosen of the frigid north, and rose to the status of a god."

From his peripheral vision, Wilhelm saw Seteth rub his chin in thought. "So Sigmar was a man who became a god?"

"Yes."

A hum escaped from Seteth as his eyes closed. "Not only that, but you also claim he allied with 'Dwarfs?' I have never seen one myself, but isn't it a bit rude to call short people 'Dwarfs?'"

"Technically their species is 'Dawi,' but that is in their tongue. In Reikspiel, the translated turn is Dwarf." Wilhelm smiled as he closed his eyes. "Many inventions of the Empire actually originate from the Dwarfen realms. Gunpowder, metal-working, and engineering are all things introduced by the Dwarfs. Ghal Maraz, the hammer my father wields, was a gift to Sigmar by High King Kurgan Ironbeard. The hammer served as a reward for saving his life and as a sign of the grand alliance between our races."

Hanneman perked up and motioned for Wilhelm's attention. "If Sigmar is a god, as you say he is, then it is possible that a similar result would happen with by naming other gods. Tell me, are there any other gods that are worshipped where you are from?"

"Several actually," Wilhelm turned over to Hanneman and smiled. "Sigmar is my patron deity, which is quite common in Reikland, but there are several others as well."

"Then could you put your arm over my device much like before?" Hanneman prepared a new set of parchment as the one he was using had been filled to the brim with hypothesises already. "Just mention the names of the other deities like you mentioned Sigmar."

Wilhelm nodded as he placed his arm over the device once more. "Ulric." A wolf appeared.

"Morr." A raven formed.

"Shallya." A dove presented itself.

"Taal." Deer antlers resonated.

"Verena." A sword holding a scale manifested.

"Myrmidia." A shield with a spear behind it became visible.

"Absolutely remarkable!" Hanneman wrote with such speed that one could swear they saw smoke coming from the pages. "To think that the possible utterance of names could resinate a symbol much in the way crests form. This most certainly demands further research into the topic." Hanneman stopped writing for a moment as he looked to Wilhlem. "Would it be possible to perhaps requisition further help with my research? Having one an expert of magic from the Empire of Man, or a few priests would do wonders for my research."

"You could petition my father. He would be the best person to ask if you want further experts." Wilhelm retracted his arm as he stretched. "I could have your petition sent in with one of my letters, that way he is sure to read it."

"You would do that?" Wilhelm nodded at Hanneman who in return gave a broad smile. "That would be most helpful. Thank you, Wilhelm. I will get to work on that petition post-haste!"

The excited scholar rushed back to his desk. The wind of his movement caused Wilhelm to nearly lose the helmet he was wearing, but his quick reflexes prevented that. Wilhelm was sure he would never forgive the Reikland prince if his helmet got damaged. Turning back to Seteth, Wilhelm was confused. From what little he knew of Seteth, he was calm and collected, with a stern nature about him. In many ways, Seteth was like Ludwig Schwarzhelm, the Champion of the Emperor and the Sword of Justice. It brought memories of Uncle Kurt and Ludwig duelling one another to settle the rivalry of the Sword of Vengeance and Justice.

At that moment, Seteth looked like he had seen a ghost.

"Is something the matter, Sir Seteth?"

Seteth shook his head and refocused. "It is nothing, I assure you. I was merely lost in thought."

Wilhelm might not have been the greatest at reading people, but what he saw was not a man lost in thought. Did the names he said affect Seteth? If that was the case, why did it affect him? Wilhelm was about to ask a question but noticed the sun was coming down. "Fair enough," Wilhelm said, dropping the topic, "though I see it is getting late out. Could I see where I will be staying?"

Seteth nodded as he led him out of Hanneman's office. "There were only rooms in the commoners' section of the dormitory, as the nobility's dorms were already filled before your surprise enrolment."

'Perfect, less pounces to deal with.' Wilhelm bowed slightly at Seteth as they walked. "That suits me perfectly, my room back home wasn't anything special anyway."

"Oh," Seteth looked over at Wilhelm with an intrigued expression, "that is quite the oddity."

"Fancy rooms are often flammable rooms."

"Why would that be a concern to you?"

Wilhelm sheepishly grinned as his head went down. "I would often do experiments in my room. Often times, they exploded." Wilhelm raised his left hand that had long since lost its pinkie finger. "This is one of the side effects of my tinkering. I was lucky that I didn't lose my hand."

"There will be no experimenting in the dorms."

Wilhelm all but visibly deflated at that. He always did like testing out what the Engineers of old have done to try and replicate the designs of Leonardo da Miragliano. Though all those attempts often resulted in the death of said engineer. "Could I at least experiment in a place of the Church's choosing? That way, it could be contained far better and not scare my peers."

"That would be acceptable," Seteth rubbed his chin as they neared the dorms, "I will be asking you father what counts as a safe environment though."

"Fair enough." Wilhelm was glad he would be allowed to continue experimenting. Even if the experiments would be more sparse due to time and resources.

The pair approached the dorms, Wilhelm noted that it appeared that the commoners' dorms were more outdoors. He could see above that they were rooms that were behind stone walls above, yet before him were rooms that only had some stone and a wooden door to protect one from the elements. "These are the commoners' dorms. As Garreg Mach accepts students from both the nobility and peasantry, the ruling classes demanded there to be separate dorms. As a rule, discrimination based on the social status of students here is frown upon, but the nobility can be quite insistent on their viewpoints, as I am sure you know."

"All too well."

Seteth retrieved a small pamphlet and set of keys from his pouch. "This is your student handbook and the keys to your room. There is a calendar, the school guidelines, and a weekly schedule for you to fill in when your classes are. As many of the other students have not arrived yet, nor have the faculty been assigned to their respective houses, it is currently blank. I trust you will fill it in once your professor has been appointed."

"Of course, causing an incident would be improper." Wilhelm grabbed the items from Seteth and bowed. "That, and I am sure I would lose my rights to experiment."

Seteth nodded. "That is correct. Violations lead to the revocation of certain privileges to the students, and with you being a foreigner, many would be more than willing to not overlook the most basic of transgressions."

Wilhelm looked down and nodded. "I understand."

"If there is nothing else, I must take my leave. Edelgard should be arriving tomorrow, so you will have the chance to meet your house leader then." Seteth began walking down the steps in front of the commoners' dorms. "I wish you a good night."

"Thank you." Wilhelm's gaze followed Seteth as he left. He wondered who this Edelgard was as he made his way to the door. Was she like his brother, prideful and cocksure of himself? His sister, refined and timid? She couldn't be like himself, that would be a joke for the century.

Was she like his father?

That possibility scared Wilhelm more than anything. His father always had a cold gaze to him that sent shivers down his spine. The way he sent soldiers out to die was not human either. Was it the crown that did this to him, or was his Father always like this? For as long as he could remember, his father was the Emperor, having been elected when he was a toddler. Mother said he was full of life and vigour when she met him, but he didn't see it. How could a man that willingly and without hesitation, manipulate his son's best friend to die be considered human?

Wilhelm sighed as he walked into his room. Now was not the time for him to dwell on such thoughts. He thought, perhaps it would be best for him if he got his mind off his father for a moment and opened his student handbook. Wilhelm blinked once, then twice as he flipped over the calendar at the beginning of his handbook perplexed by what he saw.

"Why are there only 365 days?"

* * *

"And you didn't think to convene with you fellow Electors sooner!?" The words of Boris Toddbringer rung throughout the Emperor's Chamber. His words travelled through the closed doors of the chamber and shook both painting and pottery alike. "If I was Elected Emperor, I would have immediately called for my fellows before making any decision that affects my fellow electors!"

Karl-Franz sighed as he listed to the Graf. His stances would often change based on the flavour of the mood he was in and what would best suit him. "Was it not you that stated an Emperor needed to resolve issues in his own province before sticking his nose into another's?"

"This is a completely-"

"I was not finished, Toddbringer. Your equals allowed you to speak uninterrupted, and it would be unfair to have a different standard for you."

"I agree with the Emperor on this," Helmut Feuerbach's voice pitched in as he leaned forward, "it would be unfair to the Emperor to not grant him the respect he gives us when we put forward a complaint."

"You are siding with the comet worshipers? You tree fu-"

"Enough!" Volkmar's voice intervened. "We are all Sigmar's heirs here, and such petty squalling does his Empire no good."

"My thanks to you, Grand Theogonist." Karl turned back to his opponent from Middenland. "As it was your recommendation to resolve the issues that afflict my province, I did so. The gate solely resides in the borders of Reikland, and it is my sole responsibility as both Elector Count of Reikland and Emperor to resolve the issue."

"As loathe I am to admit it, the Reiklander is right for once." The lean body of Aldebrand Ludenhof, Elector Count of Hochland, leaned forward. "It's his province, let him do what he likes."

"Oh, much like leaving you to your own devices turned your son into a mutant?" The booming voice of Theoderic Gausser of Nordland echoed in the chamber. "Perhaps it would have been better if I did take your province from you!"

"Yes, but I heard armies don't like being paid in lead." A smirk rested on the face of Wolfram Hertwig, the Chancellor of Ostermark, "Perhaps those forces would have been better served when Ostland required aid."

"That and your border dispute with Vassily did not help matters either." Valmir von Raukov's fist vibrated the stone chair he resided on.

"Concerning the defence of the Empire, what is your recommendation on how to proceed with this 'Fódlan,' my Emperor?" Wolfram gripped his seat as he pondered. "Our forces are stretched thin as is dealing with the rumours of vampires in Sylvania, and tracking the Beast of Middenland."

"Beastmen!" Todbringer slammed his fist as fury filled his eyes. "I'll make them pay for Jagerhausen!"

"Yes Toddy, we get you, you have an eye for the Beastmen." The Mad Count of Averland, Marius Leitdorf, began cackling in his seat.

"Settle down." Karl-Franz raised his hands to hush the chamber. "As it were, I have instructed the Reiksmarshall to begin construction of a new Reiksfort. This is to serve as a last resort should the diplomatic gesture of Wilhelm attending their Officer's Academy for the year not bear fruit."

"Oh, that's right!" Marius jumped up from his seat, "It's Willy-Frazzer's birthday soon, isn't it? His 18th as well, if I am not wrong. I promised to get him his own horse then!" The Mad Count made his way to the exit of the chamber. "I am sorry Frazzer, but I need to procure Daisy Kurt Helboring III for Willy!"

As Marius exited the chamber, pungent silence lingered in the air for a few minutes. Some were mouthing words, others were frozen with their jaws open. "Ahem," the silence was cut by Emmanuelle von Liebwitz, the Lady of Nuln, "my Emperor, did you happen to discover who has been orchestrating raids on the merchant folk? Nuln has been without fine cloth for months now, and my court is not pleased about this."

The Emperor rubbed his temples as he looked over to the Elector Countess of Wissenland. "I am having Ludwig investigate the matters personally. In his most recent reports, he believes the perpetrator to be someone in Altdorf."

"Good," bellowed the walking tub of lard in the room, Elector Count of Stirland Alberich Haupt-Anderssen. "Perhaps we can now start focusing on my problems! The vampire menace!"

A short halfling peered over the table, standing on his chair to be seen. "Yes! We've had to starve in the Moot due to lack of food!"

The Ar-Ulric, Emil Valgeir, scowled at the halfling. "Perhaps if you didn't eat eight meals a day, you wouldn't be starving, you milksop!"

"Up yours too, longshank!" The Elder of the Moot, Hisme Stoutheart, proceeded to make a vulgar gesture at the Ar-Ulric, sending the entire room into a shouting match.

Karl-Franz rubbed his temples once more. 'By Sigmar, this is going to be a long night.'

* * *

Seteth ran down the halls of the monastery as he looked for Lady Rhea. The names that Prince Wilhelm had uttered earlier were either an odd coincidence or something more, and he was not about to take any chances. Flayn was arriving at the monastery tomorrow, and he would not let any possible risk to her safety come to pass, no matter how insignificant it was. Some would call him paranoid about this, Seteth prefered to call it attentive. By chance, he caught the Archbishop as she was making her way up to her quarters.

"Lady Rhea!" Seteth's voice reverberated across the stone of the monastery.

The Archbishop turned around and tilted her head. "Seteth, why do you look so frantic? Did something happen?"

Seteth took a moment to catch his breath before looking Rhea in the eyes. "He knows their names."

Rhea's eyes shot over as she leaned closer to Seteth. "What?"

"Prince Wilhelm, he uttered their names."

Rhea's pupils were as wide as dinner plates. Seteth knew she understood who he was referring to. How could she not?

"We should take this conversation to a more private location."

Seteth couldn't agree more.


	3. Chapter 2

**Author's note:**

Welcome back, I hope the last chapter sparked your own curiosity. Apologies for the delay on this chapter, it was the holidays, and I wanted to spend them with my father as I know I can't do so with my mother anymore. As a late Christmas gift, I am making this chapter twice as long. I made you all wait for this chapter longer than average, it is the least I can do. If you want chapter's this long instead, let me know, it would drop the frequency down to every other week though (assuming my editor is able to keep pace with her edits as she has been). As for all that I was implying in the last chapter, I wish you all the best of luck guessing. My editor knows what is going on as I thought it best for her to know spoilers for the story. I would also like to thank every new reader that has given their support since the last chapter, I appreciate every one of you. Now with the obligatory disclaimers. My lawyers still inform me I do not own the rights to Warhammer Fantasy or Fire Emblem, the creators didn't feel the holiday spirit and own all profiting rights. Please enjoy this chapter and Happy Festag!

* * *

**Chapter 2: Remire clouds**

"_Only the insane have strength enough to prosper. Only those who prosper may truly judge what is sane." – Unattributed_

It was a beautiful and sunny day at Garreg Mach. The flowers were in full bloom and the birds were chirping away. The scent of the air was much cleaner than that of Altdorf. _'Perhaps another twenty minutes in bed wouldn't be asking for much.'_ Wilhelm thought as he hugged an old leather-bound tome.

"Prince Wilhelm! It's time to wake up! It's nearly midday now!"

The booming voice succeeded in not only frightening the birds but in having Wilhelm overcome with shock. Before Wilhelm knew what was going on, the young heir of Reikland rolled off his own bed. As he groaned and opened his eyes, his book fell upon him as his face slammed back into the ground. _'So this is why father always advised that I shouldn't go to sleep clutching a book.'_ Wilhelm shook his head as he looked at the dusty paperweight. _'Still worth it to me.'_

"Prince Wilhelm, are you alright?"

The voice came from outside his room. It was not Seteth, Wilhelm was sure of that. The jovial nature that the voice carried could not be mistaken, even with how deep the voice was. "I'm quite alright!" Wilhelm stood back up as he rubbed the back of his head. "Just give me a moment, it was so warm last night that I failed to notice how late it was."

"Warm?" the voice hummed on the other side of his door. " It is only the first of the Horsebow Moon. Surely it can't be that warm."

"Compared to the middle of Ulriczeit, this spring is far warmer than Ulric's winter." Wilhelm grabbed a fresh set of clothes from his luggage and began to put them on. He could bathe himself at the end of the day anyhow. Once dressed and ready, Wilhelm grasped the handle of his door, unlocked it, and opened it.

"Ah, finally ready, Prince Wilhelm?" The man before Wilhelm was adorned with full plate armour and had an overly broad pauldron on his left arm with spikes coming off it. He had a thin moustache that accompanied his slicked-back brown hair. His blue eyes were full of energy and joy that it felt as if Rhya had blessed the air around him.

"Of course." Wilhelm fastened his helmet and stepped outside. "Though I believe we have never met before. Tell me, if you don't mind me asking, who are you?"

"It's no problem at all." The man puffed out his chest and smiled. "I am Alois, a knight of Seiros and once the squire of Jeralt Eisner, 'The Blade Breaker!' It is nice to meet you adequately, Prince Wilhelm."

"Jeralt Eisner?" Wilhelm rubbed his chin. "I never heard of him myself. What can you tell me about him?"

"Jeralt was once the captain of the Knights of Seiros. He was the greatest knight I have ever seen! I even remember the nights he would spend in the tavern after a good day of fishing." Alois' expression turned sombre as he looked down. "The captain disappeared 20 years ago after his son died in a fire. I haven't seen him since."

Wilhelm sighed as he put his right hand on Alois' shoulder. "I'm sure you'll see him again someday." Wilhelm smiled as he looked Alois in the eyes. "Men like Jeralt don't go to the Realm of Morr easily."

Alois looked up and gave a big toothy smile. "You're right, Prince Wilhelm. Jeralt is still out there, or I am not a Knight of Seiros."Alois chuckled as his chest bulged. "While the captain was never good at buying and selling, he was good at trading blows!"

Wilhelm stared at Alois blankly as he tried to kill him with his gaze. "No puns," Wilhelm stated as he glared at Alois, "I hear enough of them from Uncle Marius already."

"Well, I guess I can refrain from them now." Alois deflated as he looked down. As he took a deep breath, his jovial nature returned. "Now Sir Seteth wanted me to gather you as Princess Edelgard has just arrived. In fact, she's currently with Seteth right now in the Black Eagle classroom."

'_Guess it is time to see who this Edelgard is.'_ Wilhelm nodded as he motioned his hand forward. "Lead the way, Alois. I have yet to see where the room of my tutelage is yet."

"Very well, Prince Wilhelm." Alois Turned around and walked away from the door, guiding Wilhelm. "By the way, Seteth wanted me to ask you a question."

Wilhelm nodded. "Go on."

"He wanted me to ask you if you are familiar with the term, "The Three-Eyed King." Alois chuckled as Wilhelm could see a small smirk. "If you ask me, he sounds like a king who keeps an eye out for everyone!"

Wilhelm groaned as his hands impacted his face. "No, I don't know what 'Three-Eyed King' refers to. Now stop with the puns by the love of Sigmar!"

"Sorry, sorry, I had to do that." Alois threw up his arms as he walked into a grass-filled courtyard with three banners overlooking it. A deer, a lion, and an eagle could be seen in front of three sets of large doors.

As they approached the door with the eagles, Wilhelm took a deep breath. _'Time to see this Edelgard.'_

* * *

"A new student, admitted so late?" Edelgard could scarcely believe what Seteth was telling her. This sort of thing had never happened in the long history of Fódlan. What was so special for this exception to be allowed now? "But Sir Seteth, I thought there were only eight students in each house this year."

"That was the original manifesto." Seteth sighed as he closed his eyes. "Recent circumstances have overturned that idea."

"'Recent circumstances?'" Edelgard frowned as she folded her arms.

The door to the Black Eagle classroom opened.

"Ah, Prince Wilhelm," Seteth turned to the door and smiled, "finally awake, I see."

Edelgard turned towards the door. The first person she saw was Alois, a reasonably well-known knight of Seiros. The second figure confused her. On first glance, he looked like a lightly armoured knight, but then she saw the standard Officer's Academy uniform all students were given. Yet what were the symbols on the plates? A griffon, a twin-tailed comet, and a cross with a skull at the centre. Edelgard considered herself well-read on the history of Fódlan, yet the significance of those symbols escaped her. Then there was the hammer at his hip. The large head clearly meant it was made for striking humans, yet there appeared to be burn marks on it. From her point of view, it also looked like it had a rather long spike as well. "Sir Seteth, is this the new student you were talking about?"

Seteth nodded. "Astute as always. Lady Edelgard." Seteth motioned over to the one he called Wilhelm. "This is Prince Wilhelm-Franz von Holswig Schliestein of the Empire of Man. Son of its emperor, Karl-Franz von Holswig Schliestein."

"Elector Count of Reikland, Prince of Altdorf, Protector of the Empire, Defier of the Dark, Emperor Himself and the Son of Emperors, Wielder of Ghal Maraz, and Count of the West March, titles, titles." Wilhelm drowned on with a blank stare. "I could go on with my father's titles, but that would take all day."

Empire of Man? The only Empire Edelgard knew of was her home, the Adrestian Empire. Yet here was a so-called prince of an Empire right before her. Was the Church on to her already? Were they going to replace her? "What even is this 'Empire of Man?' That doesn't sound like any place in Fódlan to me."

Seteth nodded and smiled. "Indeed, it is not. Two weeks ago, an ancient structure became a gateway to Prince Wilhelm's home, a land he calls the Old World."

"Yes, my father was dealing with the Spiderclaw tribe in the Bloodpine Woods, but a magical miscast by the goblin shaman caused for a portal to form." A sigh escaped Wilhelm's lips as he rubbed his helmet. "He then thought it would be an excellent idea to have me be a student here for a year as a sign of peace. I only agreed for him paying my tuition for the Engineering College of Nuln."

"And you were put into the Black Eagle house?"

"And I was put in the Black Eagle house. Happy birthday to me, I suppose."

Seteth turned and arched an eyebrow at Wilhelm. "It is your birthday today? I thought it was on the 20th of the Red Wolf Moon."

"20th of Ulriczeit, Sir Seteth." Wilhelm folded his arms and shook his head. "My father merely gave you the numbers of dates it seems. Otherwise, your 365-day calendar and my 400-day calendar would have already been resolved."

"400-day calendar? That would make you 19, not 17." Seteth rubbed his chin and looked slightly down.

"Indeed, it would, at least by your standards." Wilhelm retrieved a copy of the student handbook. "As it stands, it would appear my birthday, by your calendar's standards, would be the 12th of the Blue Sea Moon."

"Your birthday is on Saint Cethleann day?" Edelgard raised an eyebrow and looked at Wilhelm.

Wilhelm shrugged. "Purely coincidence if so. Honestly, I don't know who this 'Saint Cethleann' is, but she seems to be an essential part of your religion here along with the other Saints."

"I'll make sure to take note of that, Prince Wilhelm." Seteth began to make his way to the door. "Your fellow classmates are in the dining hall right now. Perhaps Lady Edelgard could introduce you to them."

"Of course," Edelgard turned to Wilhelm with her hands behind her back, "it would only make sense to know who you will be studying with during your year here, would it not?"

"Makes sense to me," Wilhelm motioned his hands towards the door. "Lead the way, Princess Edelgard."

Edelgard smiled as she made her way to the door. "Just Edelgard is fine Wilhelm, we are both classmates for the year, are we not?"

"I suppose that is true. Very well then Edelgard, lead the way."

Edelgard nodded as she made her way to the door. She could have Hubert investigate him and this 'Empire of Man' later.

* * *

As Wilhelm followed Edelgard, almost getting struck by her crimson cloak a few times, he saw a cyan-haired boy look over. "Oh hey, Edelgard, who's the golem with ya?"

Wilhelm looked down at himself and frowned. Sure, he was a bit more sturdy than the average human, but to be a golem? The cyan twig was lucky Wilhelm wasn't his brother.

"Caspar, that's a bit rude, isn't it?" A brunette with a strange hat leaned forward from the dining room table. "Sure he's a bit larger in size, but I'd describe him as more burly than a golem."

A green-haired individual with his head faced down merely rose a finger at the general direction of the brunette. "Dorothea, let me be the first to tell you this. You can't teach Caspar manners, believe me, many have tried."

An ear-splitting squeak emitted from a girl with violet hair as she tried to hide under a blue hood. "A-actually Caspar might be right. Those arms, the slit for the eyes, and all those skulls! You're here to kill me, aren't you!" The scream from the girl nearly ruptured Wilhelm eardrums. Fortunately, the leather padding of his helmet deafened most of the noise.

"Bernadetta, please calm down," the boy with familiar orange hair leaned forward, to Wilhelm he looked like a tosser even by Reikland standards, "I am sure this man is a more a noble than a scoundrel. After all, he is also wearing the Officer's Academy uniform. And Linhardt, this is hardly the time to be sleeping."

A darker-skinned girl with purple hair done in a long braid leaned forward, as she squinted her eyes. "I am not understanding. Are those symbols important to Fódlan? Why is this the only time I am seeing them?"

"That is because they are not of Fódlan, Petra." A man with pale white skin, oily black hair, and yellow eyes looked at Edelgard. "Shall I dispose of him, Lady Edelgard?"

"No, Hubert." Edelgard stared at Hubert with her commanding lilac eyes. "I will not have you dispose of our new classmate."

"New classmate?" The one known as Caspar tilted his head. "But I thought our class was just the eight of us this year."

"Wait a moment," the oranged haired one leaned forward at Wilhelm, "I remember seeing him yesterday being escorted to Sir Seteth's Office. Your stare was a bit unnerving, I must admit."

"I thought your hair was dyed." Wilhelm threw up his arms and sighed. "Though Sir Seteth did inform me that such an assumption was incorrect."

"Why would you think that? Surely my hair isn't that strange." The oranged haired youth reeled back, his matching orange eyes shot wide open.

"I think it would be best for him to explain why he found it strange." Edelgard sat down at the table and motioned for Wilhelm to do the same. "Why don't you introduce yourself?"

"Of course." Wilhelm slipped into the table and undid his helmet; he might as well get comfortable. "I am Wilhelm-Franz von Holswig Schliestein. I am an exchange student here from The Empire of Man. My father, Emperor Karl-Franz, wanted me to come over as an olive branch to Fódlan."

"You are not from Fódlan as well?" The one known as Petra leaned forward with a smile on her face. "Yet you have great success speaking the language! You must be teaching your secrets!"

"I see, I see." The orange-haired fop nodded. "Well, allow me to introduce myself in kind. I am Ferdinand von Aegir, the legitimate son of the Prime Minister Duke Aegir."

'_Prime Minister?'_ Wilhelm rubbed his chin and closed his eyes. _'Is that like the High Lord of the Chair?'_

"Ferdie, please, you don't need to introduce yourself that way every time." Dorothea shook her head as Wilhelm swore she pushed her chest forward towards him. "My name is Dorothea, before coming here I was a member of Mittelfrank Opera Company in Enbarr. I would love it if you could hear me sing sometime."

"Perhaps I shall," Wilhelm smiled as he nodded to Dorothea, "my father and I always loved going to the Altdorf Theatre, listening to the opera, or going to an artist guild whenever his duties permitted him."

"My, my," Dorothea smiled as her green eyes had a shine to them, "perhaps we could have a more private conversation in the future. It's rare to see a true patron of the arts!"

A grey eye peered out from Bernadetta's hood. "I-I'm Bernadetta. Please, don't kill me!"

Wilhelm shrugged, he could not be that big to scare anyone, could he? His brother often noted how small he was in comparison. Perhaps Luitpold was just overcompensating for something.

"Oh, Bernadetta is acting like prey!" Petra smiled at Wilhelm as she leaned back, her mark under her right eye more visible. "I am pleased to be making acquaintance with you, Wilhelm. I am Petra, from Brigid."

Wilhelm cringed as he heard her speak. She was lucky he wasn't a teacher of Reikspiel; otherwise, he would have been tearing apart her speech. "If you want help in how to pronounce words, try saying this. 'The bees in Bögenhafen buzz mainly about the burg.' It should help somewhat, or so I heard."

"I will be trying that in the future." Petra bowed slightly while sitting. "I have much gratitude for this, Wilhelm."

"Man, that makes you sound too much like Linhardt." Caspar motioned over to the sleeping green-haired youth. "Name's Caspar, how about you and me have a go, come on!"

"I'm not much for fisticuffs." Wilhelm still shuddered over Ludwig's teaching sessions. "I am more into science myself."

"Oh, a fellow scholar?" The one referred to as Linhardt lifted his head and smiled. "I'm Linhardt, I'm an aspiring crest scholar myself. Perhaps we could compare notes?"

"I'm not much of a scholar, more of an engineer." Wilhelm lifted his left hand as he looked at the stub that was once a finger. "It's a little more dangerous than a scholar."

"Oh, I can see that." The smile Hubert gave sent chills down Wilhelm's back. It was worse than hearing the Supreme Patriarch, Bathalzar Gelt, talk in an odd way. Though it was more likely that he was not used to Hubert's appearance. "Allow me to introduce myself, as well. I am Hubert, a humble servant of Lady Edelgard. I trust you will not be a threat to her?"

"Assuming I am still alive to message my father, then you should have nothing to worry about." Wilhelm felt safer noting that fact. No one could be willing to take that move of political suicide, would they?

"And I am Edelgard." Edelgard looked over to Wilhelm and smiled. "I am pleased to officially welcome you to the Black Eagles."

"The pleasure is mine." Wilhelm had to admit, excluding Hubert and perhaps the screaming girl called Bernadetta, the Black Eagles weren't bad company to be stuck with for the year.

"Now, back to our original topic." Ferdinand held up a menu for the dining hall. "What shall be our first meal as the Black Eagle house?"

"I say we let Wilhelm choose." Caspar flung his arms back and smiled. "I'm partially curious what a big guy like him would like."

"I am in agreeance." Petra nodded, sliding over her menu. "I am not familiar with the food here, so you choosing it would give me high confidence in the dish."

"Fine." Wilhelm took the menu and looked it over. Honestly, none of the items was familiar to him, and even then, some of the ways words were spelt were off to him. The words were still legible, thankfully, allowing him to find something simple enough that he might like. "Daphnel stew seems fine to me."

Ferdinand seemed rather pleased. "A good choice, I'd expect nothing less from a noble like yourself."

"I was hoping for peach sorbet myself," Edelgard sighed as she shook her head, "but I suppose that is fair enough."

"Oh, that sounds just lovely Edie," Dorothea closes her eyes then sighed, "but the stew is perfectly acceptable."

"I shall gather the stew then," Hubert stood up and bowed towards Edelgard, "if you would excuse me."

As Hubert left, Wilhelm stretched as he waited for the stew. There were few things he liked more than a well-made stew, especially a stew made with onions. All he needed now was an ale, and he could die happy. The milk the monastery gave out though would have to do for now.

"Oh my, what a lively table!"

A cheery feminine voice came from behind Wilhelm. Turning around, Wilhelm saw what appeared to be a young girl in a student's uniform. Her light emerald green hair matched her eyes ogled over a ludicrously large plate of fish. "Mind if I sit next to you?" Her eyes shone as she looked at Wilhelm.

"Go right ahead." Wilhelm didn't care if she did or not, but the more company, the merrier. "We're just waiting on Hubert to bring the stews for us."

"Oh joyous of days!" The girl planted her plate next to Wilhelm as she sat down. "It has been such a long time since I ate with anyone besides my brother!"

Dorothea squinted as she looked at their new company. "Wait, you're Flayn, are you not? I saw you when I arrived this morning here to the monastery and overheard your name when you were talking to Sir Seteth."

"Indeed you did," The girl called Flayn smiled, "Seteth is my big brother actually. He can be a bit overbearing, to say the least."

"A brother?" Wilhelm looked over to Flayn as he arched an eyebrow. "Struck me more as a father than a brother."

Flayn laughed as she looked at Wilhelm, "I will have to tell him you said that! I am sorry, but your name escapes me. Could you perchance enlighten me?"

"Wilhelm, Wilhelm-Franz von von Holswig Schliestein."

Flayn's eyes lit up as she laughed uncontrollably for a few minutes. After catching her breath, she looked to Wilhelm once more. "So you're the one who thought my brother dyed his hair! I haven't seen him so amused at what someone else did for years!"

"Wait, you asked if Seteth's hair was dyed?" Caspar's eyes bulged as he looked at Wilhelm. "Man, that must have taken some guts to do!"

Dorothea frowned as she rubbed her forehead. "That is a bit rude to ask though…"

"I just wanted to know so I could get some dye myself!" Wilhelm threw up his hands defensively. "I wanted to make my hair a vibrant red was all!"

"I am not understanding." Petra frowned as she rubbed her chin. "Why does saying Wilhelm has a gut connect with asking Seteth a question?"

The entire table stared at Petra for a few moments. A few held their mouths opens while others mouthed words. The silence was broken as Flayn broke out into laughter, followed by Wilhelm, then the rest of the Black Eagles.

Caspar took a deep breath as he patted Petra's back. "It means he's brave is all Petra. He was rather bold to say that to Seteth of all people."

"I think I have understanding now." Petra smiled at Caspar. "Many thanks, Caspar."

"Speaking of bravery," Ferdinand leaned forward as he looked over to Edelgard. "I heard Sir Jurgen von Richthofen is to be taking over for Professor Johann this year. A strange pick if I had ever heard of it."

Edelgard nodded. "Yes, at the behest of the old professor nonetheless. It is quite strange."

"W-weren't you talking with that pervert earlier today, Edelgard?" Bernadetta stuttered as she looked over to the house leader.

A sigh escaped Edelgar's lips as she rubbed her forehead. "Yes, he wanted me to join in with a training exercise outside the monastery on the 19th to 'help pick which house he will lead.'"

"Edie, we both know he's just going to pick the house with the females he finds attractive." A scowl laid on Dorothea's face as she remembered the man in question. "He spent three hours eying me up alone."

"Disgraceful conduct!" Wilhelm could scarcely believe what he was hearing, who in their right mind would allow this to happen? "Even The Colleges of Magic have expelled members for less in the past!"

"You and I agree on that Wilhelm." Edelgard took a deep breath as she looked over to the Reiklander. "Actually, would you be willing to join me on the exercise? Out of everyone here, you are the one I know the least when it comes to combat potential."

"If it keeps this 'Jurgen' in check, by all means, I'll come." Wilhelm raised his hammer as he made a hitting motion. "If anything really out of conduct happens I will set him right with a strike to the head."

"My, aren't you the knight in shining armour," Dorothea smirked at Wilhelm as she gave a wink, "no one would dare be deprived near you, will they Willy?"

Wilhelm froze in his seat as he looked over to Dorothea. He felt his eyes were as wide as the dinner plates the students ate off. "What did you call me?"

Dorothea smiled as she chuckled. "It's just a little nickname, I have one for everyone actually! Ferdinand is Ferdie, Edelgard is Edie, Hubert is Hubie, so that would make you-"

"WILLY-FRAZZER!"

Wilhelm turned over to the source of the voice. At the double-doored entrance of the dining hall, near the gate of the monastery, stood Wilhelm's worst fear. Clad in black and gold, with large feathers protruding from his hat, was Matius Leitdorf, on his favourite horse that also served as his advisor, Daisy Kurt von Helboring II. "Sir this area is restricted to students and faculty, you're not allowed in here." The exasperated voice of the Gatekeeper rang out as he hung from Daisy.

"Quite, you! Your wife is cucking anyhow!" Marius rode forth dragging the Gatekeeper, pulling with him a second horse.

"Karen would never do that!" The Gatekeeper let go of Daisy as he started to sniffle. "Who would she even dare to think about doing that with!?"

Marius flapped his hand about and looked over the room. "That blond boy with the blue coat more than likely. He seems like the type!"

The boy in question looked over from the Blue Lions table at Marius. "What."

"Your Highness, you are really going up in the world!" A boy with red hair, the exact shade of red Wilhelm wanted, began to chuckle and patted his apparent better on the back. "Never thought you'd loosen in this way. Want some tips on-"

The red-haired boy was promptly shut up as his blonde female compatriot delivered a swift strike to the groin. "Behave yourself, Sylvain."

"Silence, you lot!" Marius yelled at the table as he made a vulgar motion. "You are as useless to me right now as miniatures in a tabletop wargame!" The Mad Count of Averland grabbed the reigns of his horse and rode up to the Black Eagles table. "Willy-Frazzer! It has been years since I last saw you!"

Horrified at the sight of the Mad Count, Wilhelm sat still as he looked at Marius. "Uncle Marius. What brings you here? How did you get past Uncle Kurt?"

"It's your birthday today, Willy! I merely snuck past Helboring while he was yelling at some architects." At this, Marius grabbed his nonexistent moustache and made a mocking face. "'Oh, look at me! I'm Kurt Helboring! My moustache means you must listen to me drivel on about pointless things, and I yell at you if you don't seem to care! I am important after all, and you must listen to me!'" Fortunately for Wilhelm, Marius cut his mocking short. "After getting past Helboring, my trusted advisor and I came here to give you the gift I promised you when you turned 18. Your very own horse, breed from the finest steed in Averland!"

Two things horrified Wilhelm about that information. First was that Marius, with two well sought after Averland horses, snuck out under the nose of the Reiksmarshal. The second was how excellent Marius' memory actually was. Wilhelm didn't know which scared him more. "Uncle Marius, I was six when I asked for a horse!'

"And?"

"Have you considered I might have wanted something else now?"

"Not at all, don't be foolish." Marius' insanity was on full display for the students of Garreg Mach. "You were destined to have a horse today, and I got you a horse!"

Wilhelm sighed as he fought the urge to slam his face into the dining table. "If I accept the horse, will you leave it be?"

"Of course!" Marius twitched as he let out a toothy smile, his gaze falling on the entire table now. "Two questions, though. Who are these children, and which one of these ladies are you giving the Reikland ride?"

"W-WHAT!?"

"I never."

"Oh my!"

"The nerve!"

"'Rike land ride?'"

Wilhelm slammed his fists onto the table, the force caused his glass to fall onto the floor. "Alright, first of all, I am not Luitpold, that second question should never have been asked!"

Marius shrugged. "Daisy thought all Reiklanders were the same. In fact, there was this one time your father-"

"Let's not go there." Wilhelm sighed as he rubbed his forehead. "Secondly, with the expectation of Flayn on my right, these are my fellow classmates for my year here."

"Oh, I see!" Marius leaned over Flayn and grabbed her head and began to vigorously rub. "Her hair is so soft! I could do this for hou- damnation!" As Marius retracted his hands from the now dazed Flayn, a tinge of blood escaped from his right hand. "Must have pricked a hairpin or something…"

"You scoundrel!"

The voice of Seteth was clear as day as the entire room stared. It didn't take a genius to figure out Seteth was trying to kill with his gaze alone. Marius looked down at his wrist and then back to Wilhelm. "My look at the time Willy, see you next year, young Frazzer!"

With that Marius took off, Seteth chasing closely behind as the ground left a trail of smoke.

Hubert finally returned to the table of the Black Eagles, confusion filled his face as much as the others. "If I might be so bold to inquire. What just occurred?"

Wilhelm and Dorothea looked at each other in the eyes, as they came to an agreement. "So, Will is a good nickname, yes?"

"Will is fine."

* * *

Usually, Byleth dreamed of two things. First was two grand armies meeting in a battle over a long stretch of plains on a rainy day. The second was the girl on the throne, usually sleeping, sometimes about to wake from a nap. Tonight he had both of those dreams.

The dreams didn't stop there.

This third dream was strange. Here Byleth was standing on a snow-covered mountain, spikes protruded from the ground as lava poured. In the distance, he saw creatures of various shapes. Some had two heads. Others had tentacles for arms. Some he swore had serrated teeth as they were ripping apart human flesh.

Yet he still felt nothing.

Fear should have been the first thing he experienced. Yet he felt no need to run. Disgust? The sight hadn't phased him. Joy? Not a tinge of that in him.

Byleth sighed as he began walking, his sword at his hip. At least that was a constant for him. The wind felt chilling yet also hot. It was a contradiction to the senses.

Step after step Byleth trudged through the snow. He didn't know why he kept going, perhaps that was his actual mental state. A contradiction of sights and insanity.

That couldn't be it. If Byleth was insane, that would mean he at least felt something. That could not be further from the truth. Eventually, after what seemed like an eternity of walking, Byleth saw a set of ruins on top of a mountain. Chanting could be heard as well, but he could not make out the words. Every attempt he made at hearing them was met with his brain refusing to listen to them as if it were a subconscious warning.

Did it have to do with the brief conversation he had with the girl on the throne?

He heard chanting that time as well, but this was different. Even without being able to listen to the words themselves, he felt the words tearing apart his very essence. How could words alone do that? There was only one way Byleth would begin to understand how.

Byleth began to walk towards the ruins.

As he walked, he saw mutated horrors eye him up. Chimerae oozed slime as they ogled him. Warbeasts with many heads chewed on human corpses. Amalgamations of men and beasts cleaved at two-meter tall men clad head to toe in armour. Giants picking up random humans with various mutations and using them as snacks.

What sort of nightmare was he having?

Eventually, the rudimentary path, if one could call a trail of corpses and skulls a pathway, had a trail of flames over steps. The snow itself was on fire, slowly dying down after a few moments. There were no matches nearby, and even if there were, the snow would have to melt from the heat, yet it didn't.

Following the flame trail, Byleth eventually came to the ruins. It appeared to be a long since destroyed church; a twin-tailed comet had an eight-pointed star etched over it. Symbols blurred from his vision littered on ruined pillars, the origin of which had to not be of this reality. A one gold statue laid on the ground, being ripped apart and desecrated for who knows how long. Yet those were not the most horrifying things.

That went to the thing standing at the old altar.

Clad head to toe in black plate stood what appeared to be a man. Fur lined his armour as large horns protruded from his black and orange helmet. The man turned around, burning the ground beneath him as his feet moved, as he looked at Byleth with three glowing eyes. Eldric symbols lined his helmet as the man stared at the wide-eyed Byleth, looking over a sizeable two-handed sword coated in flame.

"You hide in him?"

The creature spoke, its voice was that of a beast as it barred down on Byleth. The young mercenary went for his sword, yet he felt nothing there? Byleth frantically looked for it, it was the first blade his father gave him, and he lost it.

"Don't squirm mortal, I don't want you." The creature pointed at Byleth as it continued to approach. "I want the thing that hides in you."

The creature took a few more steps raising his blade to strike until it stopped. "Damn the southern Raven. He defies me still, even as his realm will soon crumble around him."

"What are you?" Byleth spoke for the first time. His voice was raspy in this dream. Was it due to the air or just the presence of this creature? Likely only the air was the reason for his tone.

The creature let out a horrid chuckle as it pointed at Byleth. "I will humour you and the one that sleeps in you once, mortal. Consider it your last solace before I burn your lands along with the Old World!"

The creature took a step back and planted the flaming sword into the ground.

"I am Archaon. The Everchosen of Chaos. I am the Bringer of the End Times. I am the Anointed, the Favored Son of Chaos, the Scourge of all Worlds. The armies of the gods rally behind me, and it is by my will and by my sword that your weakling nations shall fall. There is nothing you or that Ancient in your head can do to stop me!"

The dream ended as all Byleth saw was the pitch black of the void. Who was this Archaon? Why did he have three eyes? Did he correlate with the girl on the throne? There were many questions he had that he did not know where to begin.

"Hey." The familiar voice of his father, Jeralt, rang out from the darkness. "Time to wake up."

* * *

"He's been at it for a while now."

Wilhelm tapped the side of a tree near their camp as he watched Sir Jurgen 'instruct' Edelgard on the proper stance to take when fighting. Not once had the professor come to him or the other apparent house leaders. His repeater handgun felt too feel heavy even with the hastily made sling meant to make transportation easier by distributing the weight. _'Why did he want us up this early again?'_

The familiar blond boy, who Wilhelm remembered was accused of cucking the Gatekeeper, extended a hand. "I don't believe we were ever introduced. I am Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd. That was quite the incident, was it not?"

"Oh yeah, when that Marius guy showed up!" The dark-skinned leader of the Golden Deer was hanging upside down from a tree overlooking Edelgard and Sir Jurgen. "I'm Claude von Riegan by the way. Nice to meet you, Willy-Frazzer!"

"It's Wilhelm-Franz von Holswig Schliestein." Wilhelm groaned as he remembered how many times he had to apologise for his 'uncle's' behaviour. "For everyone's sake, let's not call me 'Willy,' 'Frazzer,' or 'Willy-Frazzer.' I don't think anyone of us wants to remember that incident."

"Indeed." Dimitri shuddered as he recalled that day. "I spent 5 hours reassuring Albein that I was not romantically involved with his wife. I don't even know what she looks like!"

"I do, Your Highness." Claude's smirk was evident even if it looked like a frown. "She's got blonde hair like you and deep brown eyes. I saw her banging on Bernadetta's door a few times demanding the strangest of things."

"Oh, her." Dimitri groaned as he rubbed his forehead. "She's been harassing the facility to accept her as a student, even though she's far too old."

Wilhelm zoned out the conversation between the two house leaders from there. Honestly, that Karen seemed like more trouble than she was worth. Though at least he knew Albein's name for when he next saw him. The cheery gatekeeper had been a lovely welcome to the monastery when he first stepped off that carriage.

Wilhelm's train of thought ended when he saw the professor get a tad too friendly with Edelgard than a Professor should be. "That's it." Wilhelm grabbed his hammer and stretched. "I am killing him. I don't care if he's a professor, beasts like him should be put down."

"Hold a moment." Dimitri stopped Wilhelm as he began to walk. "You hear that noise?"

Wilhelm stopped to listen. Leaves were crackling as he swore he heard steel unsheathing. The crackling couldn't be the knights, the sound was off for it to be them. Even if it was the knights, why would they need their weapons out now, at this hour?

"Sounds like trouble to me." Claude jumped down from the tree and grabbed his bow.

Wilhelm put away his hammer and readied his repeater. He already loaded its six barrels in the hopes of doing some target practice. In a way, he was getting his wish. "Back to back." Wilhelm motioned to the other two house leaders. "We need to get over to Edelgard and 'Professor' Jurgen."

"Agreed." Both house leaders went back to back with Wilhelm as they made their way to Jurgen and Edelgard.

As Jurgen was moving his hand over Edelgard to change her posture for the 100th time, the pervert noticed the three students approaching. "Ah yes, I forgot about you three." Jurgen with a sigh as he stopped instructing Edelgard. "What are you lot doing? Why are you doing that ridiculous pose? That does not make you look-"

A set of figures with axes came into view, their clothes stained with blood, dirt, and possibly waste. "Look what we have here, a buncha brats in the middle of the forest!" The men appeared to be bandits, mainly holding oversized axes much like Edelgard was. "Kostas' employer was right. We're gonna be right now!"

Sir Jurgen grabbed his sword and shield and slowly began making his way to his horse. "Now gentlemen, surely we can come to an agreement?" Jurgen laughed as he looked like he was about to panic. "There is no need for violence, is there?"

"We only want the kids, milk drinker." The leader of this group of bandits raised his axe with one arm. "We don't want your weak-livered self at all."

"Have them then!" Jurgen quickly mounted his horse and rode off, leaving the four students behind.

Wilhelm blinked as he saw their future professor ride off. "Did I just see that?"

"Yes."

"The future professor left us with a band of brigands, his own students."

"That is correct."

The four grouped together as the bandits began to surround them. "Kostas' employer said he only needed two dead, but four would surely grant us a tremendous bonus!"

'_So someone hired these bandits to assassinate us_?' Wilhelm cocked the hammer of his handgun as he readied it at the bandits. "I will give you lot one warning. Leave now, and you have your lives ahead of you."

"Bold words for a wannabe knight!" The bandit laughed at Wilhelm as he had the handgun pointed at him. "Whatcha gonna do with that club anyway? Not like you could swing that before I-"

"You had your warning." Wilhelm grinned as his finger moved to the trigger. "Now die like the beast you are!"

Wilhelm pulled the trigger, a loud explosion rang out in the air overtaking any other ambient noise.

In but a second, Wilhelm frowned. He was aiming for the head of the bandit. In a way, Wilhelm succeeded and failed with his shot. "My cock!" The bandit screamed as he kneeled over. "It's gone, but I can still feel it!"

Every male but Wilhelm cringed at the pain the bandit was going through. The Reikland prince was focused only on adjusting his sights. Unlike in Nordland, he could at least try again. "Won't miss this time." Another shot rang out as it silenced the bandit, pieces of the injured man's brain now coated the floor of the forest.

"A bit brutal, eh, Buckethead?" Claude could barely fake out a smile at the scene before him. "And my ears are still ringing too, next time warn me about the noise."

"You heard the gunshot, Claude. That is the only warning you need." Wilhelm took a deep breath as he aimed for another bandit.

Four more shots rang out, each much better placed than his first, as for more bandits were made corpses for some wolf to feed off. "What even is that thing!" Another bandit cried out as he backed away. "He killed Smitt and the boys without moving a muscle!"

"You idiots! Quit gawking at him!" A much larger man with a rather broad forehead and squinty eyes emerged from the back. "If you were paying attention to those iron bars, they rotated with each bang! There are only six bars, He can't do that again!"

Wilhelm frowned. The bandits were right. It would at least take a minute and a half to reload his repeater, and by then, he would be dead. Letting his handgun hang by the sling, Wilhelm readied his hammer. At least he was skilled in that weapon, unlike the sword.

The bandits cautiously made their way closer to the four; still cautious after the repeater had downed five of their number. From his peripheral vision, Wilhelm saw Claude smirk. "Don't worry, I have a plan for this."

Edelgard squinted at Claude, even from a glance the ashen haired heir was still evaluating others. "And what is it you had in mind, Claude?"

Claude laughed as he looked to an opening. "Just trust me, alright?"

'_I have ten shillings he runs away.'_ Honestly, it was the right call. They were outnumbered, surrounded, and quite possibly outmatched. Wilhelm's firearms suited an open field more than the woods as well.

Sure enough, Claude began to retreat. "Hey! The golden brat is getting away!"

Wilhelm began to flee as well, with Edelgard and Dimitri close behind them as they rushed through the woods. With luck, one of two things would happen. First, they would lose the bandits. That hope was diminished once he saw the bandits running after them.

The other hope was finding help. Perhaps Jurgen had gone to their camp nearby. Alois was in charge of that small group, and surely students being in trouble was enough reason to rouse the knights early. There was Remire village as well, but from what he heard, their militia was somewhat lacking. Though having a wall to protect him as he reloaded would still be of use.

If he was lucky, Wilhelm and the others might catch a mercenary group as well.

In front of them, Claude let out a scream and a gasp. Wilhelm looked over to the noise and began running towards it. "Go on ahead, I'll assist Claude!"

Dimitri smiled at Wilhelm as the Reikland prince redirected. "Good, he was brave enough to act as a decoy for us, I would rather not see him die."

Was Claude acting as a decoy? To Wilhelm, it seemed more a retreat than an act of sacrifice. Besides that, Claude didn't seem like the time to sacrifice himself for others.

As Wilhelm made his way over to Claude, he saw the leader of the Golden Deer grappling with a bandit. His leg had a nasty gash on it, but fortunate for Claude, this was not Mordheim, and it wasn't all that bad. Though Claude's fortune was not infinite. As it stood, the bandit was above Claude, pushing a dagger down to the heart of the dark-skinned noble.

Wilhelm tightened his grip on his hammer and rushed forward. His vision became more of a blur as he rushed forward. For a moment, he almost felt like he was back there again.

That event was not something he would let be repeated.

Wilhelm flicked his wrist, the spike head pointed at the striking position. The bandit, no Norscan, turned. Wilhelm began to laugh as he brought down his hammer, right at that dreaded eight-pointed star. This was not like Nordland for him, he would not fail this time. "Die Norscan scum!"

The spike dug into the skull of his foe.

The body rolled off of Claude, and Wilhelm followed it. He struck the head, again, and again, laughing with each strike. On his fifth attempt, his arm was held in place, someone was stopping him.

"Hey, he's already dead!" Claude's voice rang in his ears, breaking Wilhelm's trance. "No need for the brutality."

Wilhelm took a deep breath, what he once saw as a Norscan was nothing more than the bandits he and the house leaders were running from. "My apologies." Wilhelm brushed the blood off his armour and stood back up. "I thought he was something else."

"Yeah, no kidding." Claude let go of Wilhelm's arm and leaned against the tree. "You had a sinister smile on your face, and your eyes glazed over there."

"Bad memory." Wilhelm's vision finally cleared up as the forest was back in full view. "I'd rather not talk about it."

Claude shrugged. "We all got secrets, I won't pry." He took a step away from the tree and winced in pain. "Yeah, that doesn't feel good at all."

Wilhelm moved over to Claude and supported him with his shoulder. "We need to move now. I didn't come over here just to let you die now."

"My thanks," Claude leaned on Wilhelm as they began to move, "guess this is my reward for being the first to make a strategic retreat."

"If it wasn't you, I would have likely done the same. I doubt the others understand the limitations of ranged combat."

"Too true," Claude laughed as they moved, "their Highnesses would have probably wanted me to use my bow as a club!"

"At least my repeater would be a decent club."

"That metal thing? A little too heavy for me, that's for sure. And my ears are still ringing too."

"Then perhaps wearing a bucket like me would help with the noise."

"Actually it might; where did you get that helmet by the way?"

"Claude, Wilhelm, there you both are!" Their pleasant conversation was interrupted by the familiar voice of Dimitri, dealing with a bandit swiftly with his lance. "There's a village up ahead, and there are mercenaries there as well."

"Ranald's joy!" Mercenaries were a sight to behold. They might not be state troopers, but their motives for coin made them reliable enough.

Coming into a clearing Dimitri, Claude, and Wilhelm made their way over to the gate of the village. A sign indicated it as Remire village. Edelgard was already at the gate, a mercenary stood above it. "What are brats like you doing out at a time like this?"

"Please, my good sir." Edelgard looked up to the mercenary as Wilhelm and the others came over. "We were attacked by bandits and require assistance."

The mercenary squinted his eyes as he brought forth his torch. "I'll get the captain. You four will stay there."

As the mercenary walked away, Wilhelm looked to Dimitri. "Take Claude for a moment. He's wounded, and I should reload before more descend upon us."

"Very well." Dimitri took Claude and fidgeted with his pouch. "I have a spare vulnerary anyway for the wound."

"Thanks, Your Highness," Claude smirked as Dimitri handed "if not for your aid, I would have lost my leg!"

"It was a scratch, Claude." Dimitri frowned as Claude drank the vulnerary. "You wouldn't have lost it to that anyhow."

Wilhelm just finished reloading his first barrel as he saw the gash on Claude patch up. _'Must be a local term for healing draught.'_

Wilhelm focused on reloading his weapon. If there was one weakness a repeater had over the standard handgun, it was most definitely reloading the damned things. Each barrel needed to be loaded manually, and primed for each barrel as well. The whole thing was a hassle for most people that even other engineers stuck to a Hochland Long Rifle or Grenade Launching Blunderbuss. He was more skilled at reloading than most, so the repeater suited him just fine.

As Wilhelm finished reloading, the gates to the village opened up. A dirty-blond haired man walked forward first. There was shield over his back as his orange clothes radiated from the flames of the walls. Behind him was a blue-haired mercenary. His clothes were black with pink highlights. "Now what's the commotion out here?"

"Please forgive our intrusion." Dimitri bowed before the apparent leader of the mercenaries. "We wouldn't bother you were the situation not dire."

The leader raised an eyebrow. "What are a bunch of kids like you want at this hour?"

Wilhelm scoffed as he pulled the hammer back on his repeater. "Did your fellow not inform you of our situation? Bandits are behind us, I'll offer you suitable crowns from Altdorf for your assistance on the matter."

The large man frowned at Wilhelm. "Bandits? Here?"

Edelgard nodded. "It's true. They attacked us while we were at rest in our camp."

Claude planted an arm over his head as he shook it. "We've been separated from our companions and we're outnumbered. They're after our lives… not to mention our gold."

"I'm impressed you're staying so calm considering the situation. I…" The man squinted as he looked over the four students. "Wait. That uniform…"

A mercenary on the walls slammed his fists against the wall. "Bandits spotted just outside the village! Damn… There are a lot of them."

Wilhelm looked down his sights. Six main groups were approaching them. Well, at least now the clearing provided Wilhelm with a better kill zone. "I guess they followed you all the way here." The leader's voice rang in Wilhelm's ears as he aimed at the brigand with the sword rushing down on them. "We can't abandon this village now."

Wilhelm breathed out as the man was out in the open. "Come on, let's move. Hope you're re-"

An explosion rang out as Wilhelm pulled the trigger.

The bandit scream as the bullet impacted him in the leg. His compatriots stopped as they looked on in horror. "The helmeted brat is at it again! Fall back!"

The blue-haired man ran up ahead. Sword over his shoulder as his eyes showed no emotion. "The pain!" The bandit screamed as he clutched his leg. "I'm going to end up like Sm-"

The mercenary's blade stabbed through the bandit's throat. "One." The black merc counted as he retracted his blade.

"Well, I guess the odds are more in our favour now." Claude fiddled with an arrow as he rushed forward. "Perhaps we should pay these brigands for the trouble."

"I couldn't agree more," Wilhelm said as he stood next to Claude, "shall we make this into a competition?"

"If we did that, you would already be the victor." Edelgard smiled as she hefted her axe up. "Though I suppose us house leaders can have one."

Dimitri ran forward, his spear primed and ready to strike. "It will be a good bit of sparring. Very well, Edelgard, I welcome your challenge!"

The house leaders ran off, Edelgard with the mercenary, and Dimitri and Claude to the left. Out of the two groups, Wilhelm felt more compelled to go with Dimitri. Claude had nearly died earlier, and Edelgard seemed more than capable of defending herself.

Wilhelm sprinted towards the male duo, the pair engaged by a small group of brigands with swords. Dimitri had no issues with them, as his skill with his spear was evident to Wilhelm. It reminded him of some members of the Imperial Foot. Any time a strike would nearly connect with the heir of the Kingdom, he parried the blade with but a flick of his wrist. Sometimes it appeared his weapon was about to break from the force of his strikes alone.

Claude, conversely, was acting as a showoff. Every time he would fire his arrow, Claude would do something abnormal. Be it doing a backflip, rolling to the side, or only looking away, Wilhelm wasn't sure if Claude was acting seriously at all.

A bandit moved to the rear of Dimitri, poised to strike with his axe. Wilhelm wasted no time as he raised up his repeater and fired four shots. Two for the bandit behind Dimitri, two for the one he was engaged in melee with. "Wilhelm, that was clearly mine!"

"Then you should have ended him sooner. Two for me."

As Wilhelm surveyed the area around them, it appeared that all the bandits had been eliminated. Dimitri looked around and frowned. "Where is Edelgard?"

A loud scream was heard in the distance. Wilhelm began to rush to the source of the noise. He could not risk losing his house leader before the academic year had started. What would his housemates think of him? Going over a small hill, Wilhelm saw the old squinty-eyed bandit from before as he rushed to Edelgard, only a dagger in her hand as her defence. The mercenary was rushing over too and pushed Edelgard as the bandit jumped into the air. "You'll die!"

Wilhelm pulled the trigger of his sixth barrel, yet the bandit came down. "Damnation!" The bandit's axe went into the Mercenary's back, perhaps Edelgard could kill the bandit as he was distracted.

* * *

As Wilhelm surveyed the area around them, it appeared that all the bandits had been eliminated. Dimitri looked around and frowned. "Where is Edelgard?"

A loud scream come off in the distance. Wilhelm though stood still. Why was he back here? He could have sworn that mercenary took an axe to the back. "What by Sigmar's ballsack is going on?"

Claude looked over to Wilhelm as Dimitri ran off. "What do you mean? We were just killing bandits. You even noted how you got two more."

"You'll die!" The familiar voice rang out. Yet instead of the sound of an axe impacting flesh, the sword of a sword parrying the strike and a giant thud was heard. Many footsteps and stomps followed suit as it appeared the bandits were running away.

"Hey, over there!" Claude noted as he went over the hill. Wilhelm soon followed and could not believe his eyes.

The mercenary was just fine. Wilhelm stood there for a moment. He remembered with absolute clarity that the mercenary took an axe to the back and died. Yet here was the person in question, unbloodied with his sword out as the bandit who had killed him was running away. This should not have been possible. As Wilhelm looked over the scene of the house leaders laughing in front of the stoic mercenary, Wilhelm just had one question.

"What just happened?"

* * *

The warpstone flame in the brazier died out as the old man's weary bones ached and cracked. The gods had seen it fit to show him the host of an ancient, far older than the creation of the world. Then there was the presence of the young son of Karl-Franz. He was thankful for the southern emperor on this front; had he not been there, he would never have understood what secret this ancient held.

To the old sorcerer, it was clear as day what it was. Advanced manipulation of the wind of Hysh.

To the pathetic wizards of the empire, the spell that closely resembled it was called 'Birona's Timewarp.' Yet this power went beyond even what the Slann could do, as it near perfectly reset events that occurred recently. To the locals of this far off land, it was clear to the sorcerer and his master that they could not tell what had happened. Perhaps their souls were connected to this ancient, making them more susceptible to it? That would most certainly explain why Wilhelm was not affected by it. Regardless of the specific limitations, one truth stood before them all.

The great game would undoubtedly get more interesting.

Whether they admitted it or not, all souls, even those in this far off land were but pawns before the great deceiver. The white raven cawed at the old man, getting his attention. "It is time to leave, isn't it?"

That was something that any mortal could deduce if they had the brain to do so. The guise of being a wizard for the Light College of Magic had served well but failed in the end. The Changer of Ways was never consistent, that was for sure. Yet now the position proved to be a burden more than a boon.

Framing Boris Todbringer for fueling secession? Failed.

Instigating a civil war between Hochland and Nordland? Stopped by Balthasar Gelt.

Stealing away the silver seal? Bested by a damned Witch Hunter.

The followers of Sigmar were a tricky nut, that was for sure, but all nuts crack eventually. War was coming to the Old World, and the Everchosen would bring it.

This new land, however, was ignorant of the true gods. Untainted by the cruelty of the world. Even if they were smaller, insignificant threats have stopped the ruinous powers before.

"Very well, my master," The old man bowed at the bird, his grey cloak contracting with the orange flame of the fireplace, "to Fódlan then."

Stopping could be heard from the imperial palace. "Schwarzhelm."

If there was one man that had been a thorn in the side of the raven and the old man, it was the Emperor's champion.

Any attempt to plant other agents in the Empire to slowly tear it down from within had met their end by the Sword of Justice. Any edict he tried to disrupt, the champion would enforce it to the letter. Assassins sent to kill a general? The champion would intercept and eliminate them with no mercy. Temptations of the flesh and mind? Ludwig would have none of it, the peasant-born warrior's only ambition was to serve Karl-Franz.

The champion's stubbornness would make the dwarfs grudges pale in comparison.

Now the champion was after him. His guise as a wizard had worked to fool him before, but now it seemed the blade was coming for them. The old man went to a window and climbed out. His body was frail, like most mortals, yet the divine will of the gods granted him all the strength and intellect he would need. The Raven stood at the edge of the window, laughing at the old man. His servant was a source of amusement if nothing else.

A massive bang came from the door. Then another, until finally, the door was kicked from its hinges, revealing the Champion of the Emperor. His titular sword was in his right arm as his gold helmet mirrored the fire in the room. "Where did you go, 'Advisor?'"

Ludwig kicked around the room, opening tomes left behind as the old man had barely enough time to leap out. Ludwig threw down the bookcase revealing a tome of prophecy. On its cover laid the mark of the great deceiver, Tzeentch, as tendrils moved around the flesh bound face. Ludwig picked up the book and scowled.

"Chaos."

The champion threw the text into the fire, as it elicited screams of the lost and damned.

The raven scowled as the souls contained in the text escaped. They were his own source of power, his own playthings for the great deceiver. This Ludwig would pay for costing him that.

Ironically, the loss for the bird was a gain for the old man. His master was tied to the pathetic mortal even more now; their distance from the north made manifesting himself difficult without anything to sustain his presence.

The sorcerer would live for another decade at least.

"Ludwig Schwarzhelm!" A member of the Reiksguard rushed into the room. His breath was ragged as panic covered most of his face.

"What is it?"

"It's Empress Charlott, sir!" The Reiksguard knight was shaking, fear covered the face of the guard of the emperor. "She's been killed!"

"What!?" Ludwig turned around and nearly dropped his sword. "Take me to the scene immediately!"

As the Sword of Justice ran off, the old man climbed back into the room. At least he had one scheme work out during his time here. Earlier that night, the sorcerer intercepted the Emperor's cook. He had just finished preparing the favourite roast of the Empress when the advisor stopped him. With but a subtle lie about promising to make the meal unforgettable for the Empress, the cook foolishly allowed the sorcerer to interfere.

The meal the empress had made her last was lased in warpstone.

The chef was none the wiser about it either. When asked what the green rocks were, the old man told him it was wyrdstone, and that it would invigorate the now ageing Empress.

Any witch hunter, priest, or wizard would know that was a lie.

Wyrdstone was but a myth, as it was merely warpstone. To the uneducated, its properties healed the sick, regrew hair, and gave them untold strength. In theory, warpstone did do this, but as much as it could provide, it would also take away. Such was the will of Chaos.

The old man grabbed his staff and made his way back out the window. The routine exits would be far too guarded, and his identity had been compromised already. The cook was undoubtedly dead by now, fitting for the fool he was to believe in the myth of wyrdstone.

The old man and his master were no strangers to escaping those that wished to end them. Long before becoming the guise of 'The Advisor,' the duo spent countless nights on the run from witch hunters. It might have been a long time since those days, but they were fleeting compared to the age of the sorcerer. All the two needed to do now was make it to this new land.

They could summon agents from there, wreaking havoc as they started a bloody war to claim the lives of hundreds of thousands, all to soften the forces aiming to stomp the inevitable.

"Change is coming." The old man leapt down to the ground before him, using the dark magic of the Changer of Ways to soften the fall.

Change was coming indeed.


	4. Chapter 3

**Author's note:**

Welcome back, I promise you I am no daemon. When I started writing this story, I wanted the house that Byleth lead to be a secret. If you want a hint, it all goes back to the animal of the empire, the Griffon. My choice became clear after seeing it. My editor and I even deliberated on it, and she agreed it was the most exciting choice I could go with. I will be doing a long chapter here, as well since I heard no objections otherwise (It might actually become my standard.) Updates will be slower as well as my editor is now busier due to her schedule. Oh, disclaimers, joy. I do not own Warhammer Fantasy or Fire Emblem. If I did, I wouldn't have advertised Warhammer through a catalogue for years and wonder why my sales were poor.

* * *

**Chapter 3: A Griffon's Rage**

"_Not a soul in this world dies without knowing regret and hatred." – Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd_

Wilhelm's march back to the monastery had been quiet. While the orange mercenary he learned was Jeralt led the rear guard, and his son Byleth the front, Wilhelm remained at the centre. The other house leaders were infatuated with this mercenary, his gaze and voice were void of emotion. In many ways, one could call him undead. Though Wilhelm's interest was not entirely vested in who Byleth was. He might have been the variable of his concern but not the focus.

That laid with what happened that morning.

Byleth should have been a corpse by now, with his own father standing over his grave to mourn the passing of his son. Yet somehow the mercenary had cheated death. _'Has to be magic.'_ Wilhelm scowled as he glared at Byleth. _'That sort of thing is not natural.'_

As Garreg Mach came into view, Wilhelm sighed. "Perhaps Linhardt has an idea of what happened."

"So you're saying that you saw the mercenary take an axe to the back while saving Edelgard, but then time reversed?" Linhardt tilted his head as he leaned on the front-most desk of the Black Eagles classroom. "And not only that, he then somehow survived the second time around?"

"Sounds like you're going crazy, Will." Caspar frowned as his arms went around his back. "You sure you aren't making it up? You did say you were up rather early."

"I know what I saw!" Wilhelm slammed his fists on the desk Linhardt leaned against. "That mercenary should be dead!"

"But Edelgard turned out alright." Caspar frowned at Wilhelm. "I don't see what the big deal is. Edelgard and that guy turned out alright, and some bad guys got what was coming to them, that sounds like a win-win."

Wilhelm rubbed his forehead and sighed. "Caspar, he is a mercenary. To reverse time would have to be advanced magic- magic a mercenary should not know!"

"And you're telling me all this why?" Linhardt yawned as his eyes began closing. "I don't know why you came to me of all people."

Wilhelm's jaw hung open as a groan escaped his throat. "Did you not claim to be an aspiring scholar when we first met?"

"A Crest Scholar, yes."

"And you are skilled in the arcane, are you not?"

"I am considerably well-learned in reason magic, yes."

"Then why does the possibility of time manipulating magic not only escape your knowledge, but it also bores you?"

"That is quite simple." Linhardt walked over the chalkboard and picked up a piece after clearing the board. "I am already doing research into the nature of Crests well into the night as is. Your topic, while fascinating slightly, does not relate to Crests, at least as far as you know. As such, any time I spend on the topic of magical theory for your query is the time taken away from my studies, or something far more important."

Wilhelm wanted to flip the teacher's desk. Linhardt's diagram showed without a shadow of a doubt his reasons for not helping were selfish in nature. "And what could possibly be more critical than understanding an unnatural phenomenon?"

Linhardt smiled as he made his way to the student's desk. "Napping." Linhardt's head planted itself on the table as the eccentric scholar snored.

"This is a farce." Wilhelm could scarcely believe what he was seeing. How could someone fall asleep that quickly? "Why did I even come to you?"

Caspar sighed as he tapped Wilhelm's shoulder. "If what you saw is bothering you that much, why not go to Professor Hanneman?"

Wilhelm stopped and thought. Hanneman did seem like the sort that could also be interested in mysteries of the arcane. The incident with the names of the gods invoking crests in his device seemed to give Hanneman no end to the wonder in his eyes. "Is there anyone else that could be of help as well?"

Caspar cringed at those words. "I doubt Manuela would be the best person to ask, she's doing a great job in the infirmary, but I wouldn't call her a great source of knowledge." A smirk laid on Caspar's face. "And I doubt you'd want to go to Jurgen."

"Chaos take him." Wilhelm still wanted to strangle the coward of a professor. "I hope he meets his end."

"That's what I thought." Caspar's arms rested behind his head as he took a seat near Linhardt. "That only leaves Professor Hanneman then. Though I still think you're making all this up."

"Fine then." Wilhelm turned to the door to leave the classroom. His eyes glared at the mercenary now talking with Dimitri in the courtyard. He would find his secret, no matter the cost. He knew that Hanneman was on the second floor, no doubt in his office planning on his first lesson plan. Perhaps Hanneman was waiting for the wizard he had petitioned to arrive. Wilhelm smiled at his luck on that. At least failing everything else, he could ask an imperial wizard on their theories.

"Ah, Wilhelm, there you are." Edelgard voice danced on Wilhelm's ears as he was about to walk up the stairs to the second level. "I must say, you were quite capable of dispatching those bandits. Your aim was remarkable when we were first surrounded as well. To say that I am glad you were put in the Black Eagle house would be an understatement."

Now Edelgard wanted to talk? Wilhelm was sure she was infatuated with the mercenary as she was following him around like a lovesick puppy. "I thought you were more intrigued by the mercenary."

"Oh, I am, don't get me wrong," Edelgard smirked as she crossed her arms, "but to deny skill when one sees it would be unwise, would it not?"

"If that is what you believe." Wilhelm started to walk up the stairs again but stopped as he turned to Edelgard. "By the way, you did not notice anything strange this morning, did you?"

Edelgard appeared taken aback as she arched an eyebrow. "What do you mean by strange?"

"Things repeating." Wilhelm tapped his foot and closed his eyes. "That mercenary taking an axe to the back, but suddenly time reversed, and the mercenary was not only fine, but defeated the person that would have ended him in the first place."

Edelgard jerked back as she appraised Wilhelm. "No, of course not. Perhaps you should consider going to bed early?"

Wilhelm sighed as he walked up the stairs again. "That is exactly what I thought."

Wilhelm was not surprised. With Caspar calling him insane and Linhardt being unresponsive to his claims, Edelgard's response was in the norm. Had the roles been reversed, Wilhelm was sure Edelgard was mad.

Wilhelm made his way to the second floor. The grand double doors to the Audience Chamber were open as he saw Byleth, Hanneman, and Manuela walk in. "What could they want with the mercenary?" Had they too seen something strange? Perhaps Rhea was interrogating the individual. Though as she was overjoyed by his presence, Wilhelm doubted the Archbishop was interrogating the mercenary.

Perhaps her joy and the mystery of time reversing were linked?

Whatever the case, Wilhelm would have to talk to Hanneman after their session with Rhea. But where could the Reikland prince go for magical knowledge? The library seemed like a good compromise, as with Hanneman busy and Linhardt unhelpful, he would need to do research himself.

Wilhelm sighed as he rounded the corner to the library. The arcane was not an area of knowledge he had any understanding in. In fact, Wilhelm was committing heresy. He was not a member of the Colleges of Magic, he was no wizard paying his dues to the empire. Wilhelm was no better than some hedge wizard at this stage, or mercenary witch hunter at the moment. Though his curiosity would not be sated until he investigated it himself.

Entering the library, Wilhelm saw a grand collection of books. From economics to fairy tales. History to architecture. The collection of books this library had was impressive, no doubt about that. To his left, an elderly gentleman was overlooking a ledger, most likely the library's inventory. If there was anyone who could help him get a start on arcane literature at the moment, it would be him. "Excuse me," Wilhelm tapped the front of the old man's desk, "I was curious if you could help me find some literature."

The old man looked up, with eyes as brown as his hair, he gave a smile to Wilhelm. "Ah, a new student," the old man closed his tome and focused on Wilhelm, "my name is Tomas. Of course, I can help you find some books, I am the librarian here after all."

Wilhelm's right hand rested on his chin. "I was hoping you could give me some recommendations of arcane tomes. I am less familiar with the literature here, so I do not know a good place to begin."

Tomas sized up Wilhelm and arched an eyebrow. "You don't seem like someone interested in magic." Tomas squinted his eyes and leaned forward. "Why do you want to learn about magic?"

Wilhelm sighed, at least his faceplate gave him some security from Tomas' gaze. "I had an odd incident that occurred earlier this morning, and I wanted to investigate it. I tried asking my fellow students in my class that are well-versed in magic about it, and they were somewhat unresponsive to it."

"Oh, and what happened then, young man?" The smile on Tomas' face made Wilhelm shiver. Something just felt wrong with it, and he could not explain why. It almost felt like he was back in Altdorf, talking to that Advisor.

Taking a deep breath, Wilhelm braced himself. He needed information, and he could not let his nerves get the best of him. "This morning, after Sir Jurgen had woken the other house leaders and me up, we were surrounded by bandits. Fortunately, Ranald smiled upon us, and we were able to find some mercenaries at Remire village. With their help, we were able to drive back the bandits. What has me concerned is that mercenary, Byleth, should be dead."

"He should have died?" Tomas tilted his head, his smile still unnerved Wilhelm. "Truly, it speaks for his skill if he survived a situation that should have killed him?"

"That is not what I am getting at!" Wilhelm slammed his fists on Tomas' desk. His eyes felt like they could pop out at any moment. "That mercenary took an axe to the back, reversed time, then perfectly disarmed the man that just killed him! That is not natural!"

"Reverse time?" Tomas shot back, his eyes were wide open, taking in Wilhelm's words. "Are you sure about that?"

"Absolutely." Wilhelm leaned forward and frowned under his faceplate. "It might have been early in the morning, but I am sure of what I saw."

Tomas blinked once, then twice. Wilhelm did not expect this response. Typically someone at this stage someone would have called him mad or stated he was hallucinating. Tomas seemed shocked sure, but not in the way Linhardt or Edelgard were. Tomas looked over to his left, then his right. With a smile on his face, he leaned into Wilhelm where but an inch separated the two. "I have a theory on what occurred."

Wilhelm could scarcely believe his luck. Not only did someone trust him, but had an idea what had occurred? This was suspicious. "Go on then," Wilhelm stated as his eyes squinted, "I will hear you out."

Tomas smiled as he whispered into Wilhelm's ear. "Some say such power rests in the divine goddess, Sothis. It was said she created all of Fódlan and held dominion over time and space. Through her strength, she brought life to these lands, conjured the divine weapons that the Ten Elites and the King of Liberation used to push out dark deities, and bestowed Crests on the nobility that rules to this day." Tomas laughed as he glanced to Wilhelm. "But there is another theory."

Wilhelm tilted his head at Tomas. "And what could that possibly be?"

Tomas' hands clamped together as his smirk drained all warmth around Wilhelm. "There was once a being, an ancient who came from across the stars with cosmic powers beyond mortal comprehension. This cosmic being subjugated the land and placed itself as a god among the people. It warred, conquered, and subjugated those that stood against it. One day though, this cosmic being was put down, and laid to rest, never to affect the mortals it had used again."

Wilhelm considered Tomas' words. He did not trust the man, that was certain. People do not just give things expecting nothing in return. Even when he was helping Claude, it was for social credit in his home for a year so he could experiment more freely. So what did Tomas want? What could Wilhelm give to Tomas that this sort of information had to be delivered in secret? Based on how Tomas was providing information, there was one fact that stood right to Wilhelm.

Both held a bit of truth.

Wilhelm sighed as he closed his eyes. Best to get as much out as he could. 'What was this 'cosmic being' called?"

Tomas leaned in and snickered as a grin laid on his face. "The Fell Star."

Wilhelm frowned as he backed away from Tomas. "I will take your words into consideration. Though I would still like to do my own studies into the arcane to confirm your theory."

Tomas frowned as he looked over to a set of desks on the second floor. "Unfortunately, most of the books on magic are being used right now."

"By who?" Wilhelm could hardly believe one person had taken all the books by themselves already. "The academic year has not even started, who would even need all those books right now?"

"Lysithea von Ordelia." Tomas closed his eyes and rubbed his chin. "Such a bright girl, I remember her from when I was in the Ordelia territories after that horrid incident over the Hrym revolt. Shame what happened to her siblings, though."

Wilhelm folded his arms and leaned back. "So she is on the second floor?"

"She is." Tomas extended a hand as Wilhelm began to walk away. "I must warn you though, she is a bit temperamental."

"I will keep that in mind." Wilhelm walked away from Tomas; the air around him became warmer with each step.

Walking up the stairs, Wilhelm looked over to an occupied table. Books were piled high, obscuring all but a pair of small hands, and long ashen hair. Pages flicked over at a pace beyond what the ordinary individual would do when reading tomes. In a way, it reminded Wilhelm of himself. Wilhelm had a habit of reading books, either far beyond what his age's reading comprehension would allow him to read, or at a pace that befitted his father's efficiency.

This Lysithea was indeed talented.

Wilhelm took a deep breath as he approached. "Greetings," Wilhelm pulled up a chair and sat at the other end of the table, "my apologies for my intrusion, but I was hoping you could assist me."

Sharp pink eyes glared up as a frown adorned a youthful face. If Wilhelm had to guess, she could be no older than 15. "Yes, what is it? I am quite busy as it is."

"I was curious into the ways of the arcane." Wilhelm motioned over to all the books littered about on the desk. "And since you are using all the texts on the matter, I was hoping you could at the very least assist my curiosity."

Lysithea squinted, judging Wilhelm with every second that passed. "You don't seem like the person who would use magic. Why do you want to learn about it?"

"I am sure you heard my reason when I yelled it out downstairs." Wilhelm clasped his hands together as he got more comfortable in his chair. "Time should not reverse, yet it did. I am trying to understand how."

"And you think learning about magic would help?" Lysithea arched an eyebrow at Wilhelm; she had a look of intrigue in her eyes.

"I am an aspiring engineer." Wilhelm took a deep breath and closed his eyes. "When something goes against your comprehension, it is best to look at the fundamentals for the answer. Complex explanations are often wrong after all."

Lysithea closed her eyes and hummed. "Why not go to Professor Hanneman then, or your own classmate, Linhardt?"

"I tried them first, Linhardt was more interested in napping, and Hanneman was busy with the Archbishop when I went to see him." Wilhelm rubbed his chin and glanced down. "What the blazes could they be up to?"

"They?" Lysithea tilted her head as she looked at Wilhelm.

"Hanneman, Manuela, the Archbishop, Sir Seteth, and the mercenary, Byleth." Wilhelm tapped his fingers on the desk. "They were all in the Audience Chamber for some reason. And where is Sir Jurgen? I have not seen him since me and the other house leaders returned to the monastery."

"Oh!" Lysithea perked up and held up a finger. "I remember hearing Alois say he was fired for abandoning you, Claude, and the others."

Wilhelm laughed at that information, saved him the time of getting revenge on that man. "Back to the original topic at hand, it is not like I would expect your help for nothing." Wilhelm though for a moment as he fiddled with his pouch. He did not have any gold to give at the moment, that went to Jeralt as soon as the battle was over. Gunpowder would not interest Lysithea, she did not seem like the type for that. Then he felt a familiar package, a gift from his sister that she got from an Estalian merchant.

Wilhelm laid a sack in front of Lysithea.

"It is not much, but it is all I have on me." Wilhelm bowed slightly as his eyes dropped down. "My apologies on that."

Lysithea undid the binding of the sack and pulled out a brown block. "What is this?" Her hand turned it over multiple times as she studied the object.

"The Estalians call it 'chocolate.' It is made from ingredients found native in Lustria and blended in with sugar cane." Wilhelm leaned back in his chair and smiled as Lysithea looked in awe over the candy in her hand. "Go on, try it."

Lysithea's eyes sparkled as she brought the candy to her mouth. As she took her first bite, her eyes shot wide open, a broad smile on her face quickly downed the piece she was holding. "That was simply amazing!" Lysithea moved to grab another piece, only to see the bag taken away from her.

"No no," Wilhelm said with a smirk, as the pout on Lysithea's face was extremely cute to him, "you can have the bag if you agree to help me."

Lysithea folded her arms and looked indignantly to the ground. "Fine, I was going to help you anyway, though."

"Then we have a deal." Wilhelm unfastened his helmet and set off to the side. With a smile on his face, Wilhelm extended his intact hand. "I am Wilhelm- Franz von Holswig Schliestein, it is a pleasure to have your help, miss…"

"Lysithea," Lysithea smiled as she shook his hand, "Lysithea von Ordelia. Now can I please have the chocolate?"

"Of course." Wilhelm gave her back the bag he snatched away, only to find her immediately stuff another piece of chocolate into her mouth. "Though if it is not too much to ask, can we begin with the lesson now? What governs the arcane, and what determines one's ability to use magic?"

Lysithea finished another piece of chocolate, then put her hands to her face and coughed. "There are multiple theories on the rules of magic. The most accepted idea is that magic originates with those who have some trace of noble blood, be they with crests or lacking one. It is theorised that magic is an innate ability to manipulate the reality around you. While everyone can be trained in some elementary magic, only a few can master more advanced spells."

"And let me guess." Wilhelm rubbed his chin as he smirked. "This manipulation is over a thing called The Winds of Magic."

Lysithea shot back and looked confused, "Winds of Magic? I don't know what that is."

Wilhelm frowned, he might not be a wizard, but he had heard them speak enough in his father's court to know the winds were the governing force on magic. Yet Lysithea showed ignorance of the existence to the Winds of Magic. "That is most definitely odd. You are sure you never heard of them before?"

Lysithea nodded. "This is quite honestly the first time I heard that term."

Wilhelm leaned forward and judged Lysithea's response. "What about stories of wizards exerting their power too much and getting sucked into the void, turning into horrid mutants, becoming possessed slaves to daemons?"

Lysithea began to shake as her skin paled and her pupils shrunk. "No, never!" Lysithea screeched as she rocked in her chair. "That does not happen, demons and spirits are not real!"

The sight of the scared girl made Wilhelm sad. Did such things frighten her that much? "I am sorry, I did not mean to scare you. I was merely trying to compare what I knew, that was all."

"I'm n-not scared." Lysithea puffed out her chest as she pouted. "Stop treating me like a child."

As much as Wilhelm wanted to smile at her façade, the Reiklander knew that would only make the situation worse. "It was not my intention to treat you like a child, I am sorry for what I did do, however."

"Good," Lysithea smiled as her chest heaved down, "you are much better than Claude, at least."

"Yes, to him I am just a buckethead." Wilhelm smiled but looked up near a clock. It had been some time since he came to the library. Perhaps Professor Hanneman was done in the Audience Hall. "Should we see if Professor Hanneman is finished? He and the others surely must have finished up by now and might be able to provide more insight."

"As much as I don't want to, I agree." Lysithea stood up and began to put away the books she was previously reading. "Let me just take care of these books first, and I will meet up with you. Do leave the bag, though."

Wilhelm laughed as he turned around. "It is yours now, I will get some more for you later."

"You better not forget about that!" Lysithea called out as Wilhelm walked down the stairs.

"I will not!" Wilhelm laughed harder as he made his way out of the library.

Exiting the library, the sun outside of the monastery was about to set. The orange hue shimmered off Wilhelm's armour as he made his way back to Professor Hanneman's office. Based on the position of the sun, he had enough time to talk with Hanneman, and be able to meet the professor who would be in charge of the Black Eagles for the year. When he turned the corner to the facility offices though, what greeted Wilhelm was not what he expected.

"Supreme Patriarch!?"

With robes of shimmering gold and metallic oranges, stood the Supreme Patriarch of the Colleges of Magic, Balthasar Gelt. His golden mask shimmered in the twilight of the setting sun. "Ah, the young son of Franz." The metallic voice echoed and boomed as Balthasar turned. "I was wondering where you were hiding."

"Wilhelm, wait up!" Lysithea's voice came as she turned the corner, her white calf-high boots shined as her long skirt picked up a few times as she rounded the corner. Lysithea halted in place and looked up at Balthasar, her mouth hung slightly open as she took in what she saw. "Who is this?"

The supreme patriarch bowed as his metallic head reflected the light of the sun. "I am Balthasar Gelt, Supreme Patriarch of the Colleges of Magic, Master of the Wind of Chamon." The golden mask of Balthasar moved in front of Lysithea's face. "Who are you?"

Lysithea took a deep breath and took a step back. "I am Lysithea von Ordelia, I am a student here at the Officer's Academy."

"Fascinating." Gelt rubbed the chin of his mask as he examined Lysithea. "Remarkable even."

"Excuse me for my impudence, Supreme Patriarch, but what are you doing here?" Wilhelm tilted his head at Gelt. "Surely the Supreme Patriarch has more important things to do than visiting some Officer's Academy."

"Indeed, young Franz, I do." Gelt stood high as the Staff of Volans tapped the ground. "I am here for my own research, and to assist in locating that Advisor."

"The Advisor?" Wilhelm frowned, that old man never put his mind at ease. "Why the sudden need for that cretin, should he not still be in Altdorf?"

"Indeed, he was." Gelt clenched his fists around his staff as he let out a snarl. "The foul sorcerer has fled here after nearly being apprehended. He has been spreading lies to the Emperor and Todbringer to stir a massive civil war, has executed Imperial officials, assisted the foul greenskin Raknik in the Bloodpine woods, and has tarnished the reputation of Colleges of Magic. If it was merely the Light Order's reputation at stake, I would not care, but his actions have infringed on my research, a crime most unforgivable. My research is for the benefit of the entire Empire, to interfere with it is tantamount to treason!"

"If he was in Altdorf, how did he escape?" Wilhelm frowned as he tapped his grieves. "Surely Ludwig would have apprehended him, or any of the Reiksguard for the matter."

"The Emperor's champion was about to do just that, but the Advisor had one final crime he used to cover his escape." Gelt looked at Wilhelm for a few moments. "Empress Charlott is dead."

Wilhelm stood still for a few moments, his mind raced to process the words that now echoed in his mind. "Mother, how!? She and father have guards at all times of the day! How did some lowly heretic kill her!?"

"Her meal for the evening was laced with warpstone." Gelt's words betrayed no emotion, his stance did not change a single bit as he looked Wilhelm straight in the eyes, with Gelt's eye sockets being nothing more than a black void. "The halfling chef believed the substance to wyrdstone, the hairy-footed fool. When the Empress ingested her meal, she went into a coughing fit, which led to her innards being puked up. After a minute, her head-"

"I get the bloody idea!" Wilhelm clenched his hammer tight. After a few breaths, everything around him has a red tint to it. His vision narrowed to a small slit. He would kill that man with his own hands. Wilhelm did not even get a chance to see his mother before he left, and now she was gone to the garden.

"Fucking heretical scum!" Wilhelm shoved past the Supreme Patriarch, a shaking pale-faced Lysithea left behind as she began to rock back and forth. Wilhelm needed to focus, he needed a sharp mind before he made a choice.

He needed to pray.

* * *

Solon was a thrilled man. Not but a day into the arrival of Jeralt and his son, and the vessel of the Fell Star was already known to him. The foreign prince had given him the most wondrous of news, even if he did not know it. How the prince was able to find out about time manipulation was pointless to him. All he needed to do was eliminate the vessel. The time manipulation powers would certainly prove meddlesome. Solon had no ideas of its limits, how many times one could do it, or the extent of the reversal. There were many things to test, and that suited the man just fine. The vessel had no knowledge of who he was, nor the power to stop his tests.

Perhaps Kronya could end him.

Solon laughed more as his mind raced. The sun was setting down at the monastery, and that meant he could go back to his lab. Solon was so close to the perfection of a new plague as well. All he required was the blood of Flayn. Her scent marked her as one of them, those disgusting vermin. He could not lose the guise of Tomas now, should that come to pass, all his research would be wasted. Perhaps he should bide his time instead, and strike out at the perfect moment. That would be the safest move and the one that would secure victory the fastest.

As he exited the monastery, Solon looked up. "Strange…" The moon had a greenish tint out that night, and all the stars in the sky were missing, leaving the moon as the only light that night. In all his years, the moon that circled the planet was never green. It was always a bright white or a shade of blue.

So why was the moon green?

Solon shook his head and continued to walk as the colour of the moon held no significance. He was no believer of the superstitious. Those that believed in gods or demons were ants to be crushed, nothing more. Oh, he relished the day when he could dance on the ruins of the monastery, to make them pay for the years he and the others spent in the dark. It could not come soon enough.

Entering the forest, an odd silence was there that night. There were no owls hunting mice about, or foxes scoring around. Solon had travelled into the woods many times, and not once had the trees been so silent. Not even the wind made noise as he went through.

The sound of a tree branch breaking echoed behind him.

"Show yourself!" Solon yelled as he turned around, ready to fling a spell should the need arise. Had the Knights of Seiros followed him? He was sure they were too busy sleeping before he made his move.

"So that is where you were hiding." An old man's laugh rasped out from many directions.

"I said, show yourself! I will not ask again!" Solon was getting impatient, an old man of all things had followed him out here. Did he have a death wish?

Instead of coming out, Solon only heard dark chanting. Chanting that tore at his very consciousness. The tone and words were alien to Solon, yet he could not help but feel unnerved. The wind appeared to move with it, as the few hairs on his body picked up. In but five seconds, the words came to a crescendo, with a single mind-shattering name.

"Tzeentch!"

Blue chains erupted from the ground and Solon's arms become wrapped in the ethereal chains as they pulled him to the ground. "I demand you release me!" Solon squirmed as he struggled to escape his bindings.

"But that would not do at all." An old man emerged from the forests, black feathers adorned his grey robe as white orbs looked down at Solon. The old man carried with him a staff as a white raven rode on his shoulders. "After all, we have much to discuss."

Solon scoffed. This man thought he had the right to talk to someone like him. He and his albino bird were nothing but rats. "You will release me if you know what is good for you." Solon laughed even as the struggle to get out of the chains intensified. "Do you have any idea who I am, you whelp!"

"Oh, I do." The old man moved closer as a laugh escaped his ageing throat. Solon saw him bend down right next to him and looked him in the eyes, a smirk laid on the face of the ant. "And so too does my master. That is why we want you."

"Your master should have known better than to cross me, Solon, the Saviour of All!" Solon tried to move his hands again yet the chains simply tightened with every movement. "If you simply let me go now, I will consider letting you go, you insignificant beast!"

"And you would turn away a messenger of the gods?" The old man cackling as he planted his foot on Solon's back. "The only fool here is you."

"Gods?" Solon could hardly hide his amusement. This pest was indeed an idiot. "There are no gods, you cretin! How about you let me go now, before my temper darkens!"

"**No gods?**" A new voice asked near Solon's ears, as it echoed. A voice that scratched at his mind, and tore at his sanity. Turning his head to the source of the sound, Solon only saw the raven. Its beak jagged in making a smile of all things as sharp serrated teeth flared out. The bird's red eyes held a strange blue mark in them as well that shook Solon to his core. "**You have much to learn Solon, Saviour of All. Or should you perhaps be Solon, the Mortal Fool of the Dark?**"

The bird laughed as its claws laid on Solon's forehead. What manner of creature was this, why could it speak? The voice could not be of this world. No being could have such a presence. "Who are you!?" Solon asked as his breath became erratic.

The old man laughed and knelt closer to Solon. 'You may call me 'The Advisor.' As for my master there? You may call him The Ever-Watcher."

"What do you want from me?" Solon needed to escape, these beings simply should not exist. Forget the Fell Star, these two were far worse.

The Ever-Watcher leaned his head closer as a snarl escaped the beak of its form. "**I merely need you to listen and watch.**"

* * *

Edelgard frowned as she walked through the monastery. First, she was stuck with Manuela for the year, and then Wilhelm didn't even ordain to show his face to his new professor. Did Wilhelm simply want to make her look bad? Edelgard wanted to wring his neck, that was for sure, but that would do her no good. Chastising him would be for the best.

Edelgard stood on the bridge to the cathedral. It was getting dark out as it were, and Wilhelm did not show up for dinner, nor to sleep in his own quarters. _'Where are you hiding?'_ Edelgard looked to the massive cathedral. The torches to the Cathedral of the Saints were still lit. Usually, at this hour, they would have been extinguished as no one was using the facilities there, and the clergy would have retired. Surely Wilhelm might be there.

Puffing out her chest, Edelgard made her way across the bridge, her hands clasped behind her back as she marched with purpose. The gates themselves were still open, and the large double-sided doors of the cathedral were slightly ajar. Pushing past the doors, Edelgard looked around. The large organ pipes of the church played were spotless as always. The statues of the saints were as imposing as ever, and the wooden chairs were free of dust. The cathedral itself was near spotless, the exemplar of the religious class.

All except one area.

In the corner of the cathedral laid a makeshift altar. Wilhelm's hammer formed the centre of it as two candles illuminated the typically dark corner. At the base of the shrine was the source of her scorn, knelt down before his creation as he rocked back and forth. His helmet was off, laid off to the side near a thick book. His hands appeared to be clutching something. As Edelgard approached him, she could make out the words of her classmate. "Mighty Sigmar, defender of the Empire. I am the metal, you are the hammer. Grant me the strength to smite your foes in thy name, the fortitude so that I may be the vestige of civilisation, the courage to walk the road east." Wilhelm breathed in as he continued to rock. "Morr, God of Death, grant safe passage to those who have taken the black rose and entered thy garden."

Edelgard arched an eyebrow. She did not take him to be the sort of person to be religious, and yet here he was praying. "Wilhelm," Edelgard stated firmly. The Reiklander did not budge from his prayer though, as he simply repeated his words to this 'Sigmar.' "Wilhelm!" Edelgard yelled as she stomped her foot on the ground.

Wilhelm stopped praying as his head slowly perked up. He did not even have the nerve to look Edelgard in the eye as his gaze rested solely on his makeshift altar. "What?" Wilhelm spat out.

Edelgard crossed her arms as she glared at Wilhelm. "Have you been here all day? You missed meeting our professor and made the Black Eagles look disorderly." Edelgard took a deep breath as she considered her next words. "Is prayer so important to you that you would shirk your own responsibilities?"

"My prayer is not out of religious fervour, but of necessity." Wilhelm's right hand tightened as he took in a deep breath. "It is to sharpen one's perception and hone the mind."

"That could have waited for later." Edelgard pinched her forehead and frowned. "What you do on your own time is on you, but failure to adhere to one's responsibilities is not something I can stand for."

"We all have responsibilities, Edelgard." Wilhelm stood up and turned around. "Some more vital than others."

Edelgard observed Wilhelm's face. His eyes were wide open and glazed over as his face was a deep shade of red. His eyebrows were furrowed as gritted teeth flared out. To say she was shocked would be an understatement. Whenever she saw Wilhelms face, his blue eyes were often half-lidded as a smirk would rest on his face. "Wilhelm, what happened?"

"Chaos happened." Wilhelm snarled as his fists clenched tighter as the warmth from the air drained. "My own mother was made into nothing more than a corpse as her own intestines sprawled on the floor of her quarters at home, and Sigmar knows what else happened to her."

Edelgard blinked a few times as the words replayed in her mind. Wilhelm's mother murdered? And why did the mention of the word 'chaos' drain the air of warmth? "Your mother was assassinated? Is that why you went to pray?"

"Yes." Wilhelm stared Edelgard in the eyes as his fists began to shake. "Her life was taken by some sorcerer that could not face his own crimes! She was nothing more than a victim of twisted ambition!"

The words rang familiar tunes in Edelgard's head. She felt an old sensation run through her mind. "Then let me say one thing." Edelgard puffed out her chest as she stiffened her neck. "I will not stand still with you, nor revel in the same feelings you hold, as I can only offer the words of an outsider. Only you can understand your own grief, after all. All one can do is continue on, no matter how bloody the path gets. So will you stand still and continue to let your responsibilities slip by you? Will you become infatuated by rage that you become the Lord of Delusion? These are things you have to consider, and why you must put this matter aside, and carry on."

"Put aside, carry on!?" Wilhelm's eyes bulged out as he took a step forward. "You would suggest I ignore my mother's death to carry out some unstated purpose! To see her as nothing more than a statistic! You are no better than that sorcerer! You are a soul that clings to ambition above all else!"

"That is not the case." Edelgard held out her hand. "I am trying to say that-"

"I will not hear another thing from your mouth!" Wilhelm flung his damaged hand and pointed at the entrance of the cathedral. "Out of my sight!"

Edelgard blinked as she stared at Wilhelm. "Fine then." She turned around and walked to the exit. "If you do not wish to hear my words, I will not give them."

Wilhelm snarled as he exited from Edelgard's sight. If that man wanted to pray so severely, there was little use of interrupting him. She knew that he would have to leave eventually. Be it due to hunger, or the knights forcing him out. Edelgard could not help but let out an annoyed sigh as she stepped back on the bridge with her vision planted on the ground. Wilhelm's response was simply not what she was hoping for. Why would he not just listen to what she was trying to tell him?

"Oh, Edelgard," Dimitri's voice called out, "out late, I see."

Edelgard looked up to see Dimitri walking towards the cathedral. "Dimitri, what are you doing over here?"

"I should be asking you the same question." Dimitri smiled as he stopped, his hand resting on his chin. "In truth, I saw the torches of the cathedral still lit and wanted to see what was going on."

"I can answer that question for you." Edelgard frowned as she leaned on the side of the bridge. "Wilhelm has been praying there for who knows how long over the passing of his mother. When I tried to reason with him, he would have none of it and yelled at me to leave."

"His own mother died?" Dimitri's eyes shot wide open as his mouth hung open. "When did this happen, who would do such a thing?"

"If you are so curious, go ask him yourself." Edelgard stood straight up and frowned. "He is still in the cathedral there, praying near an altar he most probably made."

As Edelgard walked away, she faintly heard Dimitri muse one thing.

"So, fate wasn't content at stopping at Duscur."

* * *

Wilhelm knelt back down as he gripped his amulet of Sigmar once more. How dare Edelgard suggest he cast aside his mother's life as an afterthought! Lives were not a currency to be exchanged, they are things to preserve and celebrate. "Damnable twat!"

Wilhelm took a deep breath as he knelt before his altar again. Edelgard might have distracted him, but that would not stop his prayers. The dead could not rest until he was done after all.

The door to the cathedral creaked open once more.

Wilhelm snarled as he slammed the floor beneath him. "I told you to exit my sight, and yet you return!?"

"Ah, so that was why Edelgard was angry."

Wilhelm flinched as he heard Dimitri's voice. "Dimitri?" Wilhelm stood as he frowned at the blond prince. "Are you here to lecture me too?"

Dimitri reeled back and shook his head. "No, of course not." His sombre tone was a significant change of pace from the strictness of Edelgard. "I was merely curious as to why the torches were still lit in the cathedral, actually. Though I see now that it is because you're still here praying."

"Indeed, I am." Wilhelm squinted his eyes, all the Reikland prince wanted to do was be left to his task. "The mind is a dangerous thing when untampered."

"So it can be." Dimitri frowned as his eyes softened. "Do you mind if I join you? I am sorry if I am intruding, but I still feel that I should."

Wilhelm nodded as he knelt back down on the cold stone floor. He moved aside his helmet and pushed forward the 'Deus Sigmar,' the twin-tailed comet on the cover glowed under the light of the candles. "I do not have anything to cushion the ground, my apologies if your knees start to hurt."

"It's quite alright." Dimitri knelt down next to Wilhelm and looked at the Altar. "If you don't mind me asking, who is to the shrine in commemoration to?"

"Sigmar Heldenhammer." Wilhelm opened the old leather-bound tome in front of him, the pages yellow from years of existence. "Sigmar was like you and me, a mortal man of flesh and blood. When my home of the Empire was overrun by Orcs and others of their ilk, Sigmar united the tribes of man and allied the Dwarfen realms. For fifty years did he reign over the Empire: a golden age that was just, fair and prosperous. Even when the taint of Chaos invaded from the north, and necromancers besieged what is known today as Altdorf, he protected his lands like none before him. At the fiftieth year of his reign, Sigmar left behind his hammer, Ghal Maraz, and marched east into the mountains to be crowned by the god he worshipped in life, Ulric."

"That is quite an interesting tale." Dimitri smiled as he looked at a depiction of the first emperor. "I would very much be interested in having a chance to see such a mighty weapon."

Wilhelm laughed as he patted Dimitri on the back. "You can ask my father then. He wields Ghal Maraz, after all."

"So your father can wield such a weapon?" Wilhelm nodded as he saw Dimitri's eyes brighten like a child at the Imperial Zoo for the first time. "Then would that make you and your father descendants of Sigmar?"

Wilhelm stared at Dimitri for a few moments, he could hardly hold back a snicker from Dimitri's words. "No, Sigmar had no children."

Dimitri tilted his head as he looked at Wilhelm. "Then who took over after he left the throne as you said?"

Wilhelm smiled as he turned the page of the religious text again. "When Sigmar left without designating an heir, there was a crisis of who would take over. Who could even take the mantle of the great Sigmar? It took some deliberation, but eventually, Sigmar's wisdom was revealed to all. Rather than having the title of Emperor being ordained by blood, it should be a title earned- a title all men of the Empire could aspire to- as we are all equally Sigmar's heirs. So as Sigmar united the tribes, so must the aspiring Emperor unite the electors."

"Ah, I see, thank you for telling me this." Dimitri leaned over the tome and examined a depiction of the twin-tailed comet. "Were you praying to Sigmar to protect your mother's soul then?"

"No, my prayers to Morr are about that." Wilhelm sighed as he grasped his pendant to his chest. "My prayers to Sigmar are for myself. To steel my resolve so that I may enact righteous wrath on those responsible for her death. To prevent others from befalling the same fate I have."

Wilhelm felt Dimitri's gaze pierce into his soul even without looking into his eyes. The deadly silence lingered in the air as not even the wind picked up. "It does hurt you know," Dimitri began in a hushed tone, "to be the one left behind."

Wilhelm nodded, his head felt heavy now even without the helmet on. "It does, especially when you did not get a chance to say goodbye."

"I felt the same way four years ago." Dimitri's voice cracked as he took a deep breath. "I saw my own father beheaded, my friends littering the ground as corpses, my beloved stepmother lost to the flames. Even now, I relive that event in my dreams, I even hear them all calling out to me."

Wilhelm let those words sink in. In a way, he and Dimitri were not dissimilar. What happened in Nordland was something he rather forget. "In the Empire, they say that if one grieves too loudly, the dead will not rest. I believe this too, but also do not wish for their lives become nothing more than a number on a textbook."

"When death comes and takes those we care for, it is up to the living to take up their cause, their regrets."

"To the common soldier of the empire, their cause was to protect the light of civilisation." Wilhelm shut his eyes tight as he held back a tear. "My mother's was caring for her own."

"Fine causes." Dimitri's breath was in pace with the wind. Wilhelm felt Dimitri's hand lay on his shoulder. "Some see moving forward as a sign of strength. To me, there is even greater strength in taking the time to grieve for those we have lost. Though eventually, no matter how sad you are, your tears will dry up. That's when you can look to what it is you are living for, and grasp it with all your might!" Dimitri's smile felt warm, even as he looked at him Wilhelm could not help but smile back. "Take all the time you need to grieve, and when you're ready to come back, at least now I will support you, no matter your choice."

"My thanks." Wilhelm grasped his hands and resumed his prayer with Dimitri. For some chivalrous fool, he had a heart at the very least. A charisma that was welcoming more than demanding. Even after Dimitri eventually left, Wilhelm at least had something to do.

He had to go see Seteth.

* * *

Seteth stood from his chair as he was about to retire for the night. He felt conflicted the events of the day. On the bright side, that less than desirable Jurgen von Richthofen would not be a professor at the monastery and Johann von Tilly would at least be appeased as to why he was being fired. Overall the Officer's Academy was in a much better position for its students.

Though the situation was still far from ideal.

Lady Rhea's insistent decision to make that mercenary a professor made no sense to Seteth. There was no investigation, no resume, the Archbishop simply pushed aside traditions and protocol to put that man in charge. She did not even consider his advice on the matter at all. Sure Alios recommended the young man, and he was Captain Jeralt's son, but the captain had been missing from the monastery for over 20 years. That and the looming threat of the End Times, it almost seemed like Rhea was endangering Flayn. Still, Seteth trusted Rhea. Perhaps she saw something he did not. Maybe Jeralt's son was the best pick for the job. As he made his way to the exit of his office, Seteth hoped the Blue Lion house would not suffer for Rhea's decision.

"Sir Seteth?" The voice of Wilhelm interrupted Seteth's train of thought. "Is now a bad time?"

At the entrance to his office stood Wilhelm, his eyes appeared bloodshot and puffed out. Edelgard noted earlier that he did not show up to meet the one taking charge of the Black Eagles for the year: Professor Manuela. "Wilhelm, you seemed troubled. Are you alright?"

Wilhelm nodded as his eyes drifted to the stone floor. "I was praying over the passing of my mother."

"I figured that was the case." Seteth made his way back to his desk and sat down. "When that 'wizard,' Balthasar Gelt arrived, he noted he was on the hunt for the murderer of your mother. Since the knights also saw you praying at the cathedral after talking with them, I simply requested they leave you be."

"My thanks to you for that." Wilhelm smiled as he sat in the velvety chair of his office. "I feel considerably better now."

"Prayer often does have that effect." Seteth crossed his arms as he rested them on the table. "So what brings you to my office so late? Surely it was not to thank me."

"You are right." Wilhelm gripped his knees as he looked Seteth in the eyes with a fiery passion. "I am here to request my house be changed to that of the Blue Lions."

"You want to change houses, did you even meet Professor Manuela?" Wilhelm shook his head as Seteth frowned. "Then why the sudden change? Last I knew, you were getting along with your housemates in the Black Eagles splendidly."

"I was." Wilhelm took a deep breath as he slammed the arm of the chair he resided in. "When I was praying earlier this night, Edelgard came in on me and berated me for taking the time to collect myself. Perhaps she was trying to say something different, but I simply could not accept that I should ignore my mother's death. Shortly afterwards, Dimitri came upon me and joined me in prayer. It was nice to have someone who at least tried to understand what I was feeling. Honestly, it made me feel joy."

Seteth brought his hands to his chin as he analysed the information. "So if I understand this correctly, your reason for wanting to leave the Black Eagles and join the Blue Lions is due to a disagreement with Edelgard, and heightened respect for Dimitri. Am I wrong?'

"That is precisely the case." Wilhelm sighed as he brought his hands to his face. "I would rather not be around someone who treats the dead so casually, it sickens me to no end. Then seeing Dimitri at least have some empathy, it truly moved me."

Seteth closed his weary eyes and thought. It would definitely not be wise to leave Wilhelm where he was, but on the other hand, such a change this early was quite unorthodox. The students did not even have their first mock battle to judge their skills yet. But something about Wilhelm's words rang a familiar tune in Seteth's mind.

It was so similar to the words Flayn had said to him.

"Very well," Seteth said as he brought out the paperwork for transferring houses, "I will approve your transfer then. Though let me say one thing as a lesson as well. As unwavering as your convictions may be, the others also feel strongly about their beliefs. If you hate all those whose opinions are different from yours, you will hate everyone eventually. People with exactly the same views as you simply do not exist." Seteth set the paperwork in front of Wilhelm and shifted over a set of quill and ink. "All I need from you is to fill out the bottom of the parchment. Though I do ask as well, you take my words of advice into consideration."

"Of course." Wilhelm's smile was bright as he quickly filled out the forms. "I guess this means that Hanneman is in charge of my house instead?"

"Oh, have you not heard?" Seteth's head shot back. "Professor Hanneman is in charge of the Golden Deer this year."

Wilhelm stopped writing as he stared Seteth in the eye. "Then who is in charge of the Blue Lions?"

* * *

_"Will you wake up already? You have not the time to be sleeping at these hours."_

Byleth groaned. His hair was a mess from being awoken by Sothis. It was still strange to have another voice in his head. That and his miserable night did not help matters.

_"Oh, slept poorly, did you? Had you instead chosen to put yourself to rest at a reasonable hour you might have gotten a good night's sleep, not to mention in a place more suitable for it."_

Her sarcastic nature only made things worse. Ever since that night at Remire village, Byleth had visions of that snow-filled hellscape, that Archaon always glaring at him as that temple burned.

_"I had caught glimpses of such things while you dreamt, you say you have not encountered any such figure in your past?"_

Byleth was sure that he had not. That sort of thing was not something he thought he could forget. Even as he made his way out of his room, he could not forget the sight of Archaon glaring at him.

_"Then this is perhaps most worrying... Although you have many things to busy yourself with for now, your students are no doubt waiting."_

"Professor!"

Byleth turned to his right, it appeared that his own students were waiting outside his door. "So that's where you were hiding, Professor." Dimitri smiled as he gave a small laugh. "You gave us quite the scare when you didn't show up to lecture."

"I would have been fine with that." Sylvain rested his arms behind his head. "Just means I can enjoy another day enjoying the fine company."

"If you mean by 'enjoying fine company,' you mean continuing your skirt-chasing, then no, you're not doing that." Ingrid glared at Sylvain with her emerald green eyes. "I am not cleaning up after your messes today!"

"Such actions would also bring scorn to His Highness." Dedue folded his arms and frowned. "As His Highness' vassal, I simply cannot allow his standing to be harmed."

"The boar's lapdog does have a point. Your insistent flirting with often gets in the way of my training." Felix scowled at Dedue before he looked back to Byleth. "I still want to understand that guard you used on me. I haven't been disarmed that quickly before."

"Perhaps a nice study session in the library would be better?" Ashe interjected as he had a pained expression on his face. "My body is still a bit sore from the sparring we did yesterday."

"Oh, a study session in the library sounds lovely." Mercedes let out a small courtly laugh. "I could even bake some treats for everyone!"

"Oh, Mercie's treats are simply the best!" Annette's eyes were nearly sparkling from excitement. "Professor, can we please just go to the library today."

"After the lecture," Byleth stated plainly, "small unit fighting today."

A collective groan came from his students. "Very well, Professor," Dimitri's smile that laid on his face was forced, "lead on then."

Byleth nodded as he made his way over to the Blue Lions' classroom. He swore he could hear his students feet drag as they walked. Rounding the corner into the courtyard, Byleth saw the door to his class was already open.

"Annette, are you sure you closed it?" Byleth turned to see Ashe looking over to the shortest member of the Blue Lions.

"I was positive I did!" Annette looked down and frowned. "Did I mess up again?"

"No, you closed it," Dedue stated bluntly, "His Highness and I saw you close it."

"Then why is it open?" Annette brought both of her hands up to her face, clearly lost in thought.

Byleth simply turned his attention back to the door and walked up to it, his students following close behind. Perhaps it was Seteth waiting to scold him for being late his first lecture. What he found was something different. Sitting in one of the desks was the fourth student he met at Remire village, Wilhelm; his helmet made him easy to spot from the other students.

"Wilhelm!" Dimitri shot back in shock. "What are you doing in here? The Black Eagles' classroom is over there."

Wilhelm stood up and turned towards Byleth and his students. The sun making it easier to see the symbols on his armour.

The same symbols he saw at that ruined temple.

"Ah, Dimitri, and the mercenary turned professor." Wilhelm walked up to the group, his face mask still obscuring his face. "I was hoping by waiting here I would find at least one of you. Turns out my luck gave me both of you."

"Is there something I can help you with?" Byleth stared at Wilhelm as his mind went back to his dream.

"Actually, there is something. Professor." Wilhelm went into his satchel and retrieved a piece of parchment and extended it to Byleth. "I would like to be transferred to your class."

Byleth blinked once as he processed the information. Undoing the parchment, it appeared that Seteth had all but approved the transfer as is, all that was missing was his own signature. "Wilhelm, are you sure of that?' Dimitri interjected as he looked to the helmeted student. "I remember seeing you get along with Edelgard and the others fine beforehand, why the sudden change?"

"Edelgard and I had a falling out." Wilhelm took a deep breath as he looked to Dimitri. "Before you arrived last night, Edelgard and I had a disagreement in ideals. I did not like her stance towards the dead, and she wanted me to ignore it. I just did not want to be around someone who treated others as a number was all." Wilhelm lifted his visor as he gave a smile to Dimitri. "Seeing you at least try and understand my point of view was actually moving. While I prayed, I thought of who would I rather want as a house leader for the year, and the answer was you."

"Ah, so another lapdog of the boar wants to join our class." Felix sneered as he appeared disgusted. "This is getting out of hand, now there are two of them."

"I would request you not speak of His Highness that way." Dedue frowned at Felix. "That said, I do respect his stance on His Highness."

Sylvain laughed as his hands went behind his head. "So we get a griffon this early into the year, that's a new record."

"A griffon?" Wilhelm arched an eyebrow at Sylvain. "What does the sacred beast of the Empire have to do with me wanting to join your class?"

"Oh, I know this one!" Annette chimed in with a smile on her face. "It's a joke in the Kingdom that any student that joins the Blue Lions from the Black Eagles is called a griffon."

"Fascinating." Wilhelm nodded as a smile laid on his face. "I guess that gives the symbols on my armour a second meaning then."

"If I accept you," Byleth stated as he looked at the papers.

"Yes, that is indeed the case." Wilhelm sighed as his stance stiffened up. "I know I was not the most pleasant person when we came back to the monastery. In fact, I was avoiding you due to not understanding something. I am still no closer to understanding what I wanted to know, but I am sorry for my rudeness. You are free to decline me, in fact, if I was in your position, I would. You know what my reasons for wanting to join are, will you allow this man of Reikland his one request?"

Byleth stared at the paper for a few moments, thinking of what he wished to do. He had reasons to do both, but a part of him felt that he'd be wrong to deny someone to know things he wanted to know as well. With a quick motion, Byleth signed. "Welcome to the Blue Lions, Wilhelm."

The Reikland price smiled as he took the paper. "My thanks to you, professor. You will not regret this."


	5. Chapter 4

**Author's note:**

Welcome back, glad you are still here. Apologies about the shock of the actual house of the story, I wanted to try and subvert the expectations you all had going into this story. My intention wasn't to enrage you all but to surprise you. I should preface that when I played Three Houses, my first house was Black Eagles, but I played Silver Snow. In fact, I am not the most massive fan of Crimson Flower (I ask my editor to control my dislike of Edelgard actually.) The reason she was on the main character tag before, was due to being in the antagonist role, not a supporting character. Dimitri as the actual House Leader has now replaced her to cause less confusion going forward. As for why this took so long to make: combine payments on my car, fixing the water in my house, and dealing with the fact my final transcript only came in recently. I am sorry for the delay, life happened. With that out of the way Disclaimers. I do not own Warhammer Fantasy or Fire Emblem. If I did, Karl-Franz would also be in smash (and I am sure people would complain at first about another Fire Emblem character, until they learn the truth.) One other thing, viewer discretion is advised.

* * *

**Chapter 4: The Mock Beasts**

_"All around me, they are talking, whispering. Put out their eyes, pluck out their filthy tongues; still, they talk, always taunting. Braying in the fields, they plot, they approach in the night, drawing always nearer. They come!" ~ The ravings of 'Mad' Schwalz, the idiot of Sternburg._

"Let's start with the basics." The Professor moved over to the blackboard of the classroom and he wrote on it. The words 'Small Unit Tactics Lecture 01' were written on it from what Wilhelm could see. It didn't help that he had to sit at the back of the room, especially when he lacked a proper desk. "What is the most crucial part of a battalion?"

"Oh, oh!" The arm of the orange-haired female (Annette, if Wilhlem recalled correctly,) raised up. "That would be the commander, wouldn't it?"

Professor Byleth shook his head. "A good commander feeds into this and needs it to thrive on the battlefield."

"Then it has to be skilled soldiers." Felix folded his arms as a small smirk laid on his face, even if most of what Wilhelm could see was his blue hair done in a bun. "Skill with a blade is all one really needs in a fight anyhow."

"Fighting with numbers makes up for skill." Byleth went back to the board and drew a few circles on it. "You can only keep your attention on so many foes. Eventually, one would take advantage of an opening."

"So it is numbers that are most important?" Sylvain rested his arms behind his head and leaned back in his chair. How he got red hair like that, Wilhelm was both envious and curious. "I always knew that more things made everything merrier, just like with-."

His blonde compatriot struck him upside the head, Ingrid was her name. "Finish that thought at your own peril, Sylvain." Ingrid's green eyes held the most tranquil fury Wilhelm had seen during his time at the monastery, with Sylvain doing nothing but keeping his hands up defensively. Ingrid turned her attention back to the Professor, her lengthy hair braided in a long tail obscured her face. "Professor, I can say with full confidence that numbers aren't the most essential factor. When on the battlefield, numbers can work to your disadvantage in crowded areas like a city street. Based on this knowledge, I am sure the answer you are looking for is an understanding of the terrain."

"No." Byleth frowned as he rubbed his chin. "While you have an understanding of the tactical side of a battle, I was asking about the strategic side of it."

"The strategic side?" Wilhelm's compatriot with the grey hair mused next to him, his name of Ashe fitting considering his grey hair and green eyes. "Is it the belief in a cause then, Professor! I have read many stories about brave knights holding against all the odds through sheer willpower."

"Ah, I could see that." The ashen haired dark-skinned giant called Dedue spoke up. "My belief in His Highness is all I need."

Byleth stared at them for a few moments in silence. Wilhelm couldn't tell if he was surprised or angry. Then again, he doubted anyone could. The Professor appeared to fiddle around with his satchel until his hand stopped moving as his glare shifted between Ashe and Dedue.

The two were struck in the face with pommels.

"All wrong answers from now on will result in a test of your reflexes," Byleth stated as he walked over to pick up his pommels, "if you fail to hone your mind, I will train your body."

"Professor, surely that is a bit rough!" Dimitri interjected as he raised a finger. "I understand trying to teach us, and that physical training is useful, but perhaps-"

"Did I stutter?" The Professor loomed down on Dimitri like a bird looking at prey. "I will teach you the way I was taught, no more, no less."

"Yes, Professor." Dimitri sat back down in his chair, wincing at the welts that Dedue and Ashe now sported. With the latter on the ground and the former unflinching.

"Oh, don't worry, Ashe!" The sweet voice of the platinum blonde of the class spoke up. Mercedes appeared to be a kind soul to Wilhelm. "I will patch you right up!"

"Thank you, Mercedes." The smile on Ashe's face was one of the purest things that Wilhelm saw.

"Wilhelm." The Professor called out looking at the Reikland Prince. "Perhaps you know the answer since none of your classmates seemed able to give the right one."

Wilhelm brought his hands to his chin and thought. Honestly, Annette's answer seemed the best to him. Without a good commander, a unit could hardly exploit the terrain or any advantage in skill or numbers. Though that was the wrong answer as well;. The Professor also wanted a solution more on the tactical scale than the strategic level. With that in mind, the idea he was referring to morale had to go, as that takes strategic effort, and affects more than the battlefield. Could it have been terrain? No, that was an element that would hinge on the commander's knowledge, a strategic layer more than a tactical one. The weather? Fódlan didn't make use of black powder so it would only affect the battle much like the terrain would. Supplies? That's once more a strategic issue. Perhaps the Professor was not referencing Fódlan ideas. He was a mercenary and would have experience in areas outside of one of the nations of this continent. With a sigh, Wilhelm resigned to hinge on Reikland battle doctrine.

"It is discipline, sir."

Wilhelm was more than ready to be struck in the face with a pommel. Instead, his Professor sat down in his chair and leaned forward. "Go on."

Wilhelm gulped as he tried to recall the ideology Reikland carried, from the state troops to the Reiksguard. "In all things, a command structure needs to be laid out for the soldiers to follow. When a soldier does something well, you praise him; when he fails, he should be punished. This is to make the unit a single machine that supports itself and improves the efficiency of the group. To be able to trust your brothers in arms even with the shortcomings they may bring strengthens the group as a whole. It promotes the competency and efficiency of any planned or unplanned actions a group of soldiers may carry out. A good commander feeds into the discipline of the unit and makes them a single fighting force that can face any horror in the world, sir."

The Professor stared at Wilhelm for a few moments. Getting up from his desk, Byleth nodded as he walked over to Wilhelm. "Well done." Wilhelm felt Byleth pat the top of his helmet. "Wilhelm is in the right state of thinking, it was the idea of discipline I was referring to. In the future, I encourage you to be like Wilhelm. Either thinking outside the box, or wearing a helmet." Byleth sat back down as he turned the page of his textbook in front of him. "Failing that, good reflexes will work just as well."

"Oh, I knew I should have thought of that!" Annette burrowed her face into a book. "I spent so much time studying this!"

Wilhelm smiled as his gaze went back to the Professor. At least he would be spared from the pommels this day.

* * *

"A final thing to note." Byleth turned around to his class as he finished up his lecture. "A mock Battle is set to occur at the end of the month. There will be two groups for this endeavour, one with the instructors, the other with only students. The house leaders are expected to be in teams led by their Professor."

"Ah, to see the leadership abilities of other students, am I wrong?" Dimitri piped up as he looked to his Professor.

"Correct." Byleth looked to all of his students, and a set of documents in front of him. "This is an officer's academy, after all, it is required to judge all your abilities to lead, not just your house leader."

"How pointless," Felix scoffed as he scowled at Byleth, "all I need is my blade, I do not need to learn to lead others into battle."

"If that's what you believe, so be it," Ingrid folded her arms as she looked over the Felix, "but last I checked, the Professor far exceeds your skill at swordsmanship, and is the one saying you need to learn this."

Felix grumbled something as he stared at the ground, Byleth could not tell what he was saying exactly.

"If I may ask, Professor," Annette piped up as she leaned forward, "if there are to be two teams, then who is in charge of the second group?"

Byleth clasped his hands together as he leaned forward on his desk. Dimitri, Dedue, Mercedes and Ashe were going to be with him, that left Felix, Ingrid, Sylvain, Annette and Wilhelm. Felix was more of a lone wolf and did not encourage any unit coherency. If Byleth put him in charge, it would result in a bad result for the other students. Sylvain seemed to be too relaxed to be in a command role. He was a better pick then Felix obviously, but he was still better a follower than a leader. Ingrid? The aspiring knight showed much promise, she was studied, disciplined, and could follow a command structure well. At the same part though some might call her too stern, and with how many times she yelled, perhaps she wasn't the most exceptional choice. Annette oddly was the opposite of Ingrid. She was more of a studious person, with a cheery personality to go along with it. Annette seemed to be the greatest supporter a team could ask for. Though she looked as if she was unable to punish those under her command, the discipline a unit needs required both praise and punishment. Then there was Wilhelm. Of the five, he seemed to understand the need for discipline and was the most properly dressed for a battle. He was unknown though, and the newest student to Blue Lions. On top of that, he was a foreigner, and the one he knew the least about.

Either of those five would be a decent pick, but each had their own weaknesses. Perhaps it would be best to take a risk.

Byleth stood up and looked to his newest student. "That would be Wilhelm."

"Wilhelm?"

"Will?"

"Him?"

"Are you well, Professor?"

"The boar's newest lapdog?"

"I understand."

Wilhelm was the most silent of the bunch, as he appeared to be processing the information. "Are you sure about this professor? I am more of an engineer than an officer."

"I believe you have a hidden potential in leadership.' Byleth walked over to Wilhelm and looked down. "For someone uneducated in leading men, you seemed to be competent in it regardless. I trust this is not too difficult for you?"

"No sir," Wilhelm shook his head as he stared Byleth in the eyes, "I am just surprised is all. Could I at least know who I will be working with for the mock battle?"

"Naturally." Byleth laid a set of documents in front of Wilhelm and watched him look at them. "You will be working with Ingrid, Annette, Sylvain and Felix. The other students are to be with me in the mock battle. Consider this a good way to bond with your new house."

"I don't know what's worse," Felix stated as he shrugged his arms, "having to be stuck with the boar, or being stuck with one of his lapdogs as a leader."

"Felix, that is enough." Ingrid frowned as she looked at him. "Dimitri is our future king, you can't go around insulting His Highness like that. I won't stand for you insulting our peers like that either, Wilhelm chose to be here by his own volition, you could at least hold your tongue for one moment."

"It is fine," Wilhelm interjected, his hand raised as to settle her down, "I am sure he has his own reasons to not like me, I will at least try to hold judgement before I understand him better. It is what Seteth told me, after all."

"If that is what you want, then I will remain silent." Ingrid bowed slightly towards Wilhelm. "I'm just trying to be thoughtful."

"I do appreciate it, but it is unnecessary." Wilhelm took a deep breath as he sat the documents down. "I am more than willing to hear a different opinion on how to proceed, and I hope to prove myself in the coming mock battle. If you have suggestions in the field, I am more than willing to hear them. Just understand that when we need to act, it has to be as a single unit, we can not afford to be at each other's throats then."

"Ah, I like your style." Sylvain smiled as he leaned back in his chair. "Nice and loose, without a restrictive command. You and I will get along just fine."

Felix merely grunted as he frowned, from what Byleth could understand of his students, it appeared he was pouting perhaps? The angle made it hard to see.

"Are there any other questions at the moment?" The silence in the room told Byleth all he needed to know. "Then you are free from this lecture. Just remember, even if the Cathedral's bell goes off, that does not dismiss you, I do."

As the students left one by one, Byleth's gaze fell on his newest student, Wilhelm. The markings of his armour in this light were all too familiar now.

"_You have noticed it as well, have you not?"_

Byleth jolted from shock, the voice of Sothis was still something he did not expect to hear. Why did she have to have the strangest sense of timing and not give any time to announce herself?

"_You should know by now that I am always with you. As for my timing, it is quite humorous to see your reactions."_

Of course, that was her reason. Sothis, while speaking like an elder, was clearly closer to what her body suggested.

"_You are still insisting I am a child? Phooey, I say! If any one of us is a child, it is you!"_

And yet she still bickered. Between her bickering and her sarcasm, Byleth could hardly remain sane. Though it was the dreams of those ruins that affected him more.

"_You could not let them go either? I suppose that is to be expected."_

The sights in his dream were too vivid to be anything but a memory or a warning. That temple, that man, all of it. It was nothing that Byleth had ever seen before.

"_Indeed, and then your newest little one is adorned in the markings of that temple. Surely you have seen it as well."_

Yes, those griffons, crosses, and twin-tailed comets were all over those ruins. Yet what did that make Wilhelm? Was he to become this Archaon? Did he know of this Archaon perhaps?

"_He did not seem to have any malicious intent, unlike the 'Everchosen' did. He does not carry any marks of an eight-pointed star as well."_

The eight-pointed star. Yes, that symbol was the most unnerving thing to Byleth. As if the sight of it alone was enough to drive men insane. Every time he pictured in his head, he could hear whispers that were not from Sothis, twisted tongues he could not understand.

Had he been a normal man, he might have screamed.

"_It would be best to not dwell on these thoughts. The memory of your dreams is most disturbing."_

For once, Sothis spoke reason.

* * *

"How long until we arrive at the monastery!" Count Victor von Varley barked at his carriage driver.

"We're only an hour's ride out my liege, I am sorry for the delay!" The servant boy called out in the dead of night. His arms were still bleeding from the Count's demand from that morning.

"Good, and if you dare stop for but a moment, I will give you another ten lashes, and make sure you eat nothing for a week!" Victor snarled as he slammed his fists into the side of his carriage, his violet eyes almost turning red.

"Yes, my Count! My utmost apologies to you!"

Victor grumbled as he slumped down in his carriage, his purple hair rubbing against the carpeted door of his wagon. It had been nearly a month since the disappearance of his crest-bearing daughter, and only now did he learn why she was gone. Her blighted mother stole her away to the Officer's Academy without his consent. The nerve of that woman! Perhaps a few days in the dungeon will do her good. That would show that harlot to not defy the will of Victor von Varley! Maybe she could also spend some time in the Oubliette as well, with only rats to feed on! _'That would be the most wondrous thing to witness.'_

Victor chuckled as he felt the familiar sensation of his trusty tool in his hands, the device that he used to properly educate his daughter.

A delightful leatherbound whip.

Oh, the sounds she would make when the whip would crack was amusing to the count. Any time she would speak up while bound in the 'lesson chair' he would crack the whip closer and closer to her. If she got hit by it once or twice, at least he was proficient at faith magic. The girl needed discipline, she was nothing more than a dog that needed to be trained, and he would be the master. Looking back, Victor really should have backed that chair and rope as well. If he was lucky, he could get in a training session for all the time he missed thanks to that whore. Oh, the whip felt so good to touch; Victor had to restrain himself from shivering in excitement. His little crest-bearing property was coming back to him, even if he had to ride for twenty hours straight.

The carriage came to a halt.

Did the brat he put on the carriage have the gall to fall asleep now? Who did he think he was trifling with? He was Victor von Varley, the count of Varley and descendant of the great Saint Indech! Compared to him, the stable boy was nothing but an insect. "You damn brat! Did I not just order you to not stop!"

Only silence responded.

Victor gritted his teeth and growled. First, the brat dared to stop and now he was ignoring him? Perhaps testing his trusty whip on him would do some good. "That's it, boy, ten lashes for you, right now!" Victor grabbed his whip and a torch, then proceeded outside to look at his driver.

All he saw was the young boy's legs.

Victor's eyes shot open as the blood still squirted from the torso, bite marks littering the legs of the young boy as the horses of his carriage were nothing but bone. How could this have happened? Had he been so fixated on his fever dream that he did not hear the screams of the boy or the pain of the horses? And what by the Goddess could have done such a thing? Whatever did that horrid action, Victor was sure about one thing.

He needed to get out of this forest.

Victor went back to his carriage and grabbed a sword. Whatever did that to the stable boy would no doubt still be nearby, and he needed to defend himself. Fortunately, all Adrestian nobility carried a sword at least with them at all times. Should that fail him, his skill at magic would have to do. He was most definitely not Count Vestra or Count Hevring, but his faith in the goddess gave him a few tricks. Victor raised his torch up high and examined the road. The dark cloudy night made it hard to see the way, but he was sure if he continued running, he would at least encounter someone. While the chances of that were low, his chances were better than staying near his now useless wagon.

Victor took a deep breath and began his march into the darkness, his torch leading the way. The only light in the forest was that of his flame and the green-tinted moon. In all his day, Victor never saw the moon take a green tint, a blue hue at times for sure, but this was unnatural. Combine that with the dead silence of the forest, he was sure this was a fever dream. The smell in the air was far too pungent to be a dream, though, the trees too vivid in detail. Even as he continued to walk, he was sure he saw red dots in the trees. The entire scenario fit into a horror novel, so what did that make him?

The sound of a crunch came from the trees.

From what Victor could tell, it sounded like an animal having a meal. Flesh sounded like it was being ripped off, and the sound of chewing echoed through the air. The hairs on his back stood up, every fibre of his body told him to run, he swore he heard his mother's voice as well. Another part of him was curious what the source of the sound was, the fear of not knowing scratched at his mind as he looked to the source of the sound. Perhaps by taking a look at the local wildlife, it could not be worse than not knowing.

As Victor moved closer to the sound and pushed a bush out of the way, he instantly regretted his choice.

Before Victor was a creature that was part beast part man, clutching the torso of the stableboy that was driving his carriage. The beast with its goat-like head bit into the chest of the boy and ripped off a chunk of flesh. The repeated echo of the abomination chewing the meat danced in his mind as the blood of the boy dripped on the brown fur of the thing.

Victor dropped his sword.

The thing turned to Victor and flared jagged human-like teeth at him and brayed, and unintelligible words came from it. There was one thing Victor could understand. "Kill man!"

Without a second thought, Victor turned around and started to run, his stubby legs and plump body doing him no favours. That thing was some sort of demonic beast, he was sure of it. That thing could not be a natural creation of the goddess. She had not made creatures that abominable, and not that horrifying either. Sothis protect him, this was a real nightmare! His lungs burned with each step, branches hit him in the face as he tried to escape. "HELP!" Victor called out. If he was lucky, perhaps a band of mercenaries would come to his aid or some knights. Even some bandits would be better than that thing.

Victor tripped on a stray branch.

As he fell down, the grip on his torch was lost as it rolled away from him. To make matters worse, his face landed right on a rock, the sound of his nose cracking rang out on contact as his face flared up in pain. Victor screamed as he looked over to his torch. Fortunately, it was still lit and did not land near a tree. All he needed to do was get over there, and start running again. Victor began to drag himself over to the torch, his own clothes ripping on the ground with every inch. He could not waste time trying to first stand up without a light, that torch was his only safety in this forest, he needed that fire. Clothes could be replaced, his life could not. Just as he was in reach, the sound of breathing came from behind him.

Victor paled at the sight in his peripheral vision.

Standing over him was a creature with paste-like skin and white fur; the beast was most clearly some form of hermaphrodite. It had one feminine looking breast and the genitalia of both a man and a woman. The head resembled that of a bull, and the thing had large green eyes that were filled with lust. The being flipped Victor over, his shaft hidden only by the white fur and thin leather stood at attention as a purple erotic symbol on the chest glowed. The being cackled as it moved closer to Victor and laughed.

Victor's heart was beating faster than anything else in his life as the creature loomed closer. At first, the creature merely sniffed him. His sweat trickling out like a waterfall as all he could do was watch and pray to the goddess. "Is it gold you want! I can give you all the gold you please!" Victor pleaded to the beast, desperate to not die here. "Anything you want just name it, and it's yours! Just please let me go!"

The beast looked over Victor and stared at his plump form. The creature licked its lips as it laid its fingers on his body. Without warning, the thing bit into him and ripped off a piece of his flesh.

Victor screamed in agony; the thing was eating him. With its mouth open as it chewed, he saw the creature greedily rip his own flesh that was taken from him and grind it up. In seconds the beast swallowed the meat with one gulp and gave a toothy expression to Victor. The thing grabbed Victor by his hair and began to pull him to the darkness, the hooves of the creature knocking against his head with every step. At that very moment, Victor could do only one thing.

Victor let out the biggest scream of his life, shaking the trees around him.

* * *

Wilhelm sighed as he marched into the forest. Apparently, while the professors had the pleasure of having their mock battle in a mostly open plain, the others had to make do with the deep woods. Even though the Knights of Seiros were watching over them, Wilhelm still felt unease. There have been many a story in the Empire of regiments of troops disappearing when on patrol, and of entire noble families travelling by land being exterminated in one night. That was the main reason that Imperial nobility and merchants preferred sea travel. Compared to the dangers travel by land could bring, a ship could house more troops, had a more accessible way of defending itself and could carry far more cargo. Yet here he was in a forest, with only some students and a handful of knights to watch his back as he entered into the towering green behemoths of wood.

'_Sigmar preserve me.'_ Wilhelm thought as he walked forward.

"Can you stop shaking?" The voice of Felix cut deep as Wilhelm gripped his repeater tightly. "I can only take the sound of shaking metal so long."

"As rude as it was for Felix to put it like that, I have to ask something as well." Ingrid pondered as she walked right up to Wilhelm. "Why are you so scared right now? You don't strike me as much of a craven, so to see you like this seems off."

"To put it simply Ingrid, I'm not keen on dying." Wilhelm took a deep breath before looking into her jade eyes. "If there was an apparent foe in front of me, I'd at least have that in my focus. Yet our adversary is not in view, nor are we in an open field. What we are surrounded by instead is a vast forest of the unknown before us, with things watching our every step without us being any wiser to it."

"Actually, I have a second question." Annette piped up on Wilhelm's right, her head tilted towards the Reiklander. "You sometimes speak in a somewhat dignified manner like most nobility, yet other times you slip into a brash accent and make use of contractions. Why is that? From what I've seen of that Gelt person is that he always spoke with a tongue befitting my old teachers, isn't he a noble like you?"

"First of all, to consider a wizard of all things on the same level as a normal human is something I am going to ignore for your safety. While the Supreme Patriarch is a high rank in his college, he and every other wizard are nothing more than bombs on a short fuse. I may offer them better courtesy than most, but I would advise you to never equate us again." Wilhelm took a deep breath as he holstered his repeater over his shoulder. Considering the weapon was banned for the mock battle, he wasn't going to need it. Wilhelm only took it to keep the weight he usually would carry the same. "As for my accent, blame a combination of standard Reikland tutelage and my old mate from Ostland."

"Ostland?" Annette inquired as her eyes had a shine to them. "I haven't heard you mention that place before. Any great sweets from this 'Ostland'?"

"I doubt they have any, Ostland is the poorest province of the Empire." Wilhelm smirked as his hand went to his chin. "They do have their infamous 'Stone soup of Ostland' made with only one stone, as any more would be a waste."

"Hey Ingrid," Sylvain piped up, "sounds just like home for you, yeah?"

Ingrid glared daggers at her redheaded companion. "Sylvain, if we weren't in a mock battle right now, I'd make you regret even thinking those words. That said, I don't mind waiting until after this is over."

"Come now, no need to threaten him over a joke at the expense of another province." Wilhelm patted Ingrid on the shoulder and chuckled. "Besides, the stone soup thing was merely a jest at the thriftiness of an Ost-"

A black ball emerged from the trees.

Though caught off guard, Wilhelm and the other Blue Lions were more than able to avoid the ball of miasma, as it was travelling at a slow pace. However, at the same time, a giant of a man, about the same height as Dedue with blond hair charged out toward Wilhelm. If his gut were any more massive, Wilhelm might have confused him for an Ogre. For all his skill he might as well have been, the way he swung that iron axe lacked any sort of finesse or training that was drilled into him by Ludwig, and his movements were sluggish as well. Wilhelm barely needed to move to avoid his strikes, he was feeling like an Elf right now.

"I'll keep it simple!" A feminine voice called out from behind.

Out of the corner of his eye, Wilhelm saw a woman with a boy's haircut coming quickly behind him, her spear mere inches away from his back. "Taal's teeth!" Wilhelm threw up his arms and shook his head. By the rules of the skirmish, he was out of action, in fact looking around it appeared that all the Blue Lions were out. Felix was in a pit trap, Sylvain's face rested against a tree, Ingrid was shaking her head at the two of them, and Annette was moaning on the ground after apparently tripping over a branch. What an utter disaster.

"In this situation, it would have been better to have had a scout ahead," Lysithea called out from the woods, "That way you would have been less likely to fall into a trap."

"You cheeky blighters!" Wilhelm laughed as he shook his head. "You pulled the old Helborg special on me, I should have seen that coming."

"Actually, that is a technique I learned from Captain Jeralt!" The orange-haired girl stated with pride. "Lysithea worked out the positioning though, but in the end, you can't go wrong with the teachings of the best mercenary in Fódlan."

"Indeed." Wilhelm mused with a smile. "I know the Reiksmarshal would have approved of such tactics at the very least. I pity my former house."

"Oh, the Black Eagles?" The large man nearly yelled. "I saw them fall into a rather large pitfall actually, Leonie here just went up and put them out after that."

"And it was hardly something any noble should do either!" Ferdinand called out as he walked towards the group. Petra, Dorothea and Linhardt were right behind him. "Honestly, it was quite uncouth to do that."

"Yet it worked didn't it?" The female spear user smiled as she leaned next to a tree. "In a battle, all that matters is winning and keeping casualties low."

"Spoken much like Kurt Helborg himself." Wilhelm laughed as he looked at the orange-haired girl's complimentary eyes. "Might as well introduce ourselves to the victors of this side battle, I am Wilhelm-Franz von Holswig Schliestein, and you are…"

"Leonie Pinelli- Captain Jeralt's first and greatest apprentice!" Leonie extended a hand that Wilhelm shook. "It's nice to meet you, Wilhelm."

"And I'm Raphael Kirsten." Raphael gave a broad smile as his arms rested behind his head. "How about we go to the dining hall after this?"

"Sounds fine by me," Wilhelm chuckled as he lifted his faceplate, "I am in the mood for more stew myself."

"Umm… e-excuse me." A timid voice came next to Wilhelm. A girl with pale sky blue hair and multiple bags under her brown eyes stood timidly next to Wilhelm. 'A-are you injured at all?"

"I am quite fine, but my thanks for the inquiry.' Wilhelm smiled as he looked into her eyes, that were mostly hidden behind her slightly unkempt hair. "And who are you if I may ask?"

"M-Marianne von Edmund." Marianne quietly squeaked out as she took a step back.

"Nice to make your acquaintance, Marianne." Wilhelm bowed his head slightly and smiled. "Apologies for whatever I did to make you nervous."

"I-it's not that but-" Marianne cut herself off as she looked down towards the ground.

"Yes, I look like a golem," Wilhelm smirked as he looked over to his former house, "though the term burly also works as well."

"I see your tongue is as sharp as ever, Will." Dorothea smiled at the Reiklander. "Edie was in a dower mood after you left our house as well."

"Be that as it may, I don't regret leaving." Wilhelm folded his arms and frowned. "Her views and mine on the dead conflict too heavily, and I would simply prefer to avoid unnecessary confrontation."

"That's something you and I both agree with, Will." Linhardt yawned as he planted himself on the ground. "Less time spent fighting means more time for research and napping."

"Linhardt, why are you taking a sleep on the ground?" Petra looked toward Linhardt with an intrigued expression. "Surely the tree's top would be safe."

"Yes, but that would require climbing up, and less time for-"

A pained scream came off in the distance, the sound of one of the knights watching them.

All the students looked over to the source as they wondered what occurred. Some feared for the knight's safety, some brushed it off, most were confused. Why did one of the Knights scream out like that? Surely a Knight of Seiros would be more than capable of brushing away a few bandits.

Wilhelm was terrified.

It was a cloudy day, he and the others were in the middle of the forest, and someone just let out a blood-curdling scream. He might not have been a hunter or a forester, but it didn't take a large amount of knowledge of the woods to know something was wrong. "Form a square!" Wilhelm yelled out as he pulled out his repeater and began loading it.

Ingrid looked over to Wilhelm confused. "Wilhelm, why are you-"

"No time for talk!" Wilhelm interjected as he began scanning the environment. "Form a square around me, melee weapons at the front, ranged combatants at the centre!"

Ingrid sighed as all the others moved over. Even Linhardt, who was more than content with taking a nap, moved to the centre with him, Lysithea, Marianne, and Annette. The young ashen haired student looked toward Wilhelm with an arched eyebrow, the Reiklander still keeping his head continually moving. "Wilhelm, what has you so alert now?"

Wilhelm frowned as he finished loading his repeater. With one swift motion, he brought his faceplate down and cocked the hammer to his rifle. "Beastmen." Wilhelm gritted his teeth as he readied his weapon. "If we are lucky, and I am wrong, you will never have to see one."

"'Beast men'?" Felix frowned as he looked over to Wilhelm. "What kind of childish nonsense are you going on about? Do you seriously expect us to believe that there are creatures that are part man and part animal in this forest? Don't try and make me lau-"

The sound of a daemonic bray interrupted Felix's speech.

There was no doubt in Wilhelm's mind, Beastmen were near. 'We need to get out of here now."

"Agreed." Ingrid tightened her grip on her spear as she began scanning around. "If whatever made that sound was able to kill one of the knights, we need to get out of this forest."

"We are getting out, I can assure you," Wilhelm stated as he patted his housemate on the back, "if we all work together, then we will make it through this alive. Petra, you seem to be a keen one, mind finding us the quickest route out?"

"Of course," Petra smiled as she gripped her sword. "In Brigid, hunting and tracking is first skill to master."

"Wonderful!" Wilhelm smirked as motioned his hands towards a path. "Lead us out then, but stay close. Everyone else, keep in a tight formation and follow Petra. If any of you break formation, you are as good as dead."

Words were pointless, as the others nodded. Wilhelm knew the more noise they made, the worse their chances of survival were. If they were lucky, the braying came from nothing too massive. Scholars have pointed out that in forests like the Drakwald, massive beasts could appear before a small village and wipe out the population. This was the fate Markus Wulfhart's home suffered after all, so it could happen to them too. Wilhelm prayed to Sigmar for his protection as they marched out. He was hoping that the Founder of the Empire would hear him away from his lands and see him out safely.

Life was never that simple.

As Wilhelm was scanning the trees on this cloudy day, he saw a pale white creature, with cattle-like legs and large green eyes. Its bull horns were drenched in blood, as leather dangled off it. In its arms was a human limb that it was feasting upon. From this distance, Wilhelm could quickly tell it was one of the knights.

Unfortunately, he was not the only one to notice the sight: Linhardt began to vomit, Annette stared wide-eyed in horror, and Felix cringed. Those were the more tamed reactions, as there was one other who noticed too, the white-haired youngster of the group. As the beast ripped off more flesh to devour, Lysithea screamed.

The beast did not fail to notice the scream from the magically-inclined girl, as the Beastman turned its head towards the group and brayed. The bray reverberated throughout the forest and where there was one before the group of students there were now twenty. Each one of them held a look of hunger in their daemonic eyes. Some of the beasts were white, others were brown. The Beastmen appeared somewhat more massive than the average man, but only by a small bit. Though the creatures surrounded the students, and the thirteen huddled together tightly information. With a prayer on his lips, Wilhelm readied his primary weapon and grimly prepared for the eventual slaughter.

Wilhelm pulled the trigger.

* * *

Kurt Helborg was not having a good week. First, he learned the Advisor had slipped by him after assassinating the Empress, a member of the imperial family he was sworn to protect. Then the Beastmen made an assault on the new Reiksfort, Fort Luitpold. Finally, after beating back the waves of the mutated spawns of Chaos, a few Beastmen entered through the gateway the fort was guarding. The Reiksmarshall could not leave this threat be! The horrid creatures were no doubt joining up with the blasted heretic, and would no doubt move to kill the young Wilhelm next. So here he was, with a few trusted knights, Helborg was making his way through this forest, cutting any Beastmen in his way.

The beasts were nothing more than chaff to the Reiksmarshall. Sure most of his kills were gained while they were asleep in a pile of human bones, no doubt some poor souls that were found alone in the forest, or were using tactics that labelled him as a 'cheater,' but he was still the one alive in the end. Be they beasts of Chaos, or Grail knights of Bretonnia, Helborg was not above using dirty methods to win in a fight, that was Ludwig's weakness. Perhaps Helborg should try to duel Ludwig once more, the peasant was even able to defeat him in a duel acting only as of the most stereotypical knight he could. Even Helborg's tricks were not enough to defeat him. Perhaps a new method was in order then.

A gunshot roared out in the distance.

Kurt turned his head towards the source of the noise. From what he saw of the local knights, they didn't make use of black powder weaponry, so it could not be them. It could be mercenaries, but considering how close the forest was to the Seiros Cult's monastery, he doubted it would be sellswords. That left one more probable answer.

That gunshot was Prince Wilhelm's repeater.

Kurt knew the Prince had an experimental repeater handgun with him, and that the foreign church would put him in combat assignments. It was hardly a surprising thought that the young prince would already be in combat. Yet these were not outlaws, this forest housed Beastmen now, creatures more than capable of killing well-trained soldiers, let alone cadets and children! "Reiksguard Knights!" The Reiksmarshall called out, the twenty riders accompanying him looked to their grandmaster. "Prince Wilhelm might be in danger, and we must protect the imperial family! We cannot let another failure blacken our history! Inner circle, death or glory Awaits us!"

"For the Emperor!" His inner circle called out. The Reikguard had few moments to spare.

* * *

Wilhelm pulled the trigger again and again until his weapon ran out. The magically-inclined of the group were frantically casting spells, to varying effect. Linhardt was simply revolted and horrified that his aim was off, Lysithea was unresponsive, Marianne was simply praying and providing support, and Dorothea while somewhat responsive was still in shock. Out of all of them, Annette seemed to be the one the least phased by the ordeal. The same observation appeared to be the same as the other Blue Lions as well who were either perfectly well or good at hiding their fear. Wilhelm, though, felt like he needed to scream yet lacked the mouth to do so. Such creatures terrified him, but what good would screaming do now? It was better to zone out his typical persona and let his muscles do the work.

After pulling the trigger of his weapon again, Wilhelm only heard a click. His blasted repeater jammed! The bloody thing was probably not cleaned well enough. "Sigmar's breath!" Wilhelm cursed as he slapped the side of his weapon. There was not much else he could do. His hammer was too short to help in the mainline, and he lacked any other sort of ability to provide ranged support.

As the more physically-inclined students pushed back the tide of Beastmen, Wilhelm knelt next to Lysithea. "Lysithea!" Wilhelm shook the girl who was now on closer examination shaking. "I need you to listen to me!"

Lysithea's eyes looked over slightly to Wilhelm as she still shook.

Wilhelm sighed as he rested his intact hand on her shoulder. "I don't know what is going through your mind right now, but this is the second time I have seen you like this." With his free arm, Wilhelm rubbed his chin as he remembered something he learned the day he first met her. "Are you recalling the Hrym Revolt?"

Lysithea turned her head as she stared at Wilhelm. "What did you ask?"

"I ask if you were remembering the Hrym Revolt." Wilhelm waged his finger as he remembered what little he was told. "All I know is that something occurred that caused something to happen to your family and that your siblings were-"

"Will! Behind you!" Dorothea called out.

Gripping his repeater, Wilhelm turned around and barely swiped away the rusted axe of the beast. With his foe's weapon stuck in the ground, Wilhelm struck the creature in the head with the butt of his repeater. The metal weapon was more than capable of acting as a club as it left a dent in the side of the beast's head. Wilhelm wasted no time as he beat the skull in over and over with the butt of his weapon over and over until all that was left was a red mist, a similar shade to the crust of its hooves.

Wilhelm rested his repeater over his shoulder and readied his hammer. If the Beastmen were more than capable of breaking through their thin line, it would be up to him to hold the centre.

A few of the beasts were already dead. Felix was holding his own against two of them. Petra was deftly dodging the sluggish blows of a brown monster. Ferdinand, Leonie, Sylvain, and Ingrid were more than capable of repelling some of them with their spears. Only Raphael seemed to be having some issue as he was both outnumbered and slow. Though the brute was more than capable of overpowering foes that tried to trade blow for blow with him. But those numbers were not enough to cover every Beastmen. Even with the ranged support he and most of the magic users were able to provide at the beginning, they were only able to cut down a third of the foe. And still, five more were coming through the gaps, barreling down upon them.

Wilhelm gritted his teeth and took a deep breath, letting his vision narrow in on the foe. If the creatures of Chaos wanted to take more lives on his watch, they would have to go over his cold dead corpse. The first beast was a brown one, slow and like a child. Wilhelm used his lesser arm's plates to redirect the blow around him, letting him strike the mutant's eye with the spike of his hammer. Wilhelm jabbed his weapon deep and twisted before pulling out his hammer. Wilhelm could confirm the kill later, but now he was needed to defend his fellow students.

A white beast, far faster than his previous foes ran up to him and pushed him towards the ground.

Wilhelm was glad his faceplate was down, as it appeared one of the beasts defecated itself before death. Disgusting creatures they were, no doubt little no sense of hygiene. The white mutant flipped Wilhelm over and looked down towards the Reikland noble. Its chest bore a heretical yet erotic symbol and around its neck appeared to be one of the crest symbols that adorned his uniform. Wilhelm tried to reach for his hammer, he needed to kill this beast, his class needed him.

The sound of cracking bone echoed in the air as the beast crushed his hand.

Wilhelm roared in pain. The beast no doubt broke multiple bones in his hand as it now lay pinned to the ground. All around him, Wilhelm saw his fellow students desperately holding back the tide of Beastmen, as more soon appeared. Ingrid and Leonie were kicking as they fell to the ground, Raphael was nearly pinned under a pile of flesh, Ferdinand and Sylvain were being dragged off, and Petra was the last defence to the magically inclined students as the horde fell upon them. Wilhelm looked up to the beast and snarled in desperation, he tried to kick and punch, yet the creature was out of reach. The bastard was looking down on him, no doubt thinking of turning him into his next meal. As the fatigue of his punches finally caught up to him, Wilhelm stopped. His body could go no further. His adrenaline was out, and there was nothing he could do from here. Wilhelm closed his eyes and prayed to Sigmar that at least his end would be quick.

The sound of a sword cutting through flesh like butter entered his ears.

As Wilhelm opened his eyes, there was the most beautiful sight in the world. Riding upon the grey warhorse he knew was Kreiglust was Kurt Helborg, his golden laurels shined even on this foggy day. "Reiksguard! Leave not one beast standing! If even one of you leaves here with a clean blade, you will be punished."

The sound of horses descending on the Beastmen was a wondrous sound to Wilhelm. With his right hand useless, Wilhelm pushed himself up with his left to see the Reiksmarshal and his knights more than quickly handle the Beastmen. The Solland Runefang held a blue hue as it effortlessly cut through bone and flesh. Uncle Kurt himself was a tempest of war with his blade on the battlefield. While the other Reiksguard knights were all capable warriors in their own right, the fluid motions Uncle Kurt used and the ease that he cut through the mutants were mystifying. With a dancer's grace, Uncle Kurt's movements were captivating as he made his art on the battlefield.

Wilhelm started to laugh, for the third time in his life, he had nearly gone to the garden. Three times had he been so close to death that he could feel Morr's breath. Perhaps he was going mad. Had the sight of his own death really phased him so little? Then why was he afraid to be in the forest? If losing his own life wasn't his fear, then what was? Was it the unknown, then?

"Prince Wilhelm!" Uncle Kurt called out, his horse galloped over to him with the utmost haste. "Are you well? You should have known better than to go into a forest with so few!"

"It was not my idea, Uncle Kurt!" Wilhelm winced as the adrenaline left his body. "The Officer's Academy wanted some students to have a skirmish in the forest. Even with my protests, they only put in a few knights to watch over us."

"And they too have fallen, no doubt." Uncle Kurt frowned as he looked at Wilhelm's right hand. "So the curr stomped on that hand. Hopefully, it will not need to be amputated."

"That won't be necessary." The familiar gruff voice of Captain Jeralt came from behind the prince, with his old mercenary band and the knights trailing behind him. Even Professor Byleth marched with him. "I am more than confident Professor Manuela can make that good as new."

"Then consider it your lucky day." Uncle Kurt sheathed his blade as he scanned Jeralt. "And you are?"

"Jeralt Reus Eisner, recently reappointed Captain of the Knight of Seiros." Jeralt sighed as he pinched his forehead. "A position that I didn't want, and you?"

"Reiksmarshal Kurt Helborg. Grandmaster of the Reiksguard, wielder of the Solland Runefang, and the finest swordsmen of the Empire." Uncle Kurt puffed out his chest as his large moustache twitched up.

"Didn't Ludwig defeat you in the last grand tournament, Uncle Kurt?" Wilhelm smirked as he walked up next to the Reiksmarshal. "Wouldn't that make him the finest swordsmen then?"

Uncle Kurt slapped Wilhelm's broken hand quickly, a pained winced escaped Wilhelm's lips. "Be careful, Your Highness. Would not want you to let that wound get worse now."

Jeralt raised an eyebrow at the rather old Reiksmarshal. "I take it you don't take jokes well."

"Whatever do you mean?" Kurt glared with squinted eyes. "I take jokes perfectly well! My temperament is one of the best in the Empire, I say!"

"Right, as you say." Byleth stated with a blank expression.

"Where did this come from!?" Came the voice of Ferdinand next to the corpse of the creature that nearly killed Wilhelm. In his hands was the strange crest-like symbol that Wilhelm remembered hung from the beast's neck.

"It was on the beast that nearly ended me," Wilhelm answered as he staggered over, as he winced in pain, "it was hanging around its neck. No doubt in my mind it was some form of a trophy to the vile beast. What is so important about it?"

"It's the seal of House Varley!" Ferdinand exclaimed as he stood up. "My father, Duke Aegir, said that Count Varley always kept it on his person at all times. So why is it here?"

"Was he a plump man with purple hair the same shade as his eyes?" Uncle Kurt inquired as he crossed his arms.

"Yes, that is a rather crude way of describing him, but that is accurate." Ferdinand winced as he walked over to the Reiksmarshal. "Did you perchance see him then?"

"Indeed, I have." Uncle Kurt frowned as his eyes were like daggers. "He was strung up in some sort of horrid monument to Chaos. His own skin was ripped from him, and parts of his body appeared to have been eaten. There was even white liquid secreting out of his orifices."

Ferdinand's eyes widened in shock as Wilhelm swore he was on the verge of vomiting. "Are you sure about this?" Byleth inquired as his hands rested on his chin. He was clearly lost in thought.

"I am more than sure." Uncle Kurt gripped his sword as he leaned towards Byleth. "All my knights and I saw the sight before us. His heart was still beating as his eyes were shot wide open. I even gifted him mercy by granting him rest in Morr's realm, and torched that cursed icon!"

"By the Goddess!" One of the knights exclaimed. "I know his condition was unhelpable, but surely torching him and what he was attached to was extreme!"

"There is nothing too extreme when it comes to combating the forces of Chaos." Uncle Kurt loomed over the knight that moments before was exasperated. "You would do well to remember that." Uncle Kurt moved away from the knight and back to Wilhelm as he moved him over to his horse. "Now we should get you to this Manuela then, Prince Wilhelm. Your safety takes top priority."

'_Did it though?'_ Wilhelm wondered as he was put onto Kriegslust. He didn't feel any sort of joy being saved by Uncle Kurt. He wasn't going to inherit anything. Wilhelm was the youngest child of the Emperor, sure, but did that make him that valuable? Wilhelm looked back to his peers that were walking with Jeralt and the others. Besides some torn clothes, they appeared to be perfectly fine. The worst wounds they had were some simple light cuts across their arms and face. Wilhelm smiled at the sight. He was glad that at least they made it out alive, he could lose his hand and be happy with it. Wilhelm smiled as his peers vanished from his sight.

* * *

In the jungles of Lustria, High Loremaster Teclis finished collecting more way-fragments for his own ritual. Though he was far from home, and his brother Tyrion was busy repelling Malekith's recent invasion of Ulthuan, Teclis focused on the fortification of the Vortex. He had come to the Great Turtle Isle in hopes of allying with the Children of the Old Ones. Yet the Lizards were far from willing to hear his words. The Great Spirit of the Jungle was already roused by that incepted Huntsmarshal, Markus Wulfhart, and the Druchii under the vile Morathi were only making matters worse. Then there was the Skaven as well, the pests that they are were an annoyance to Teclis. All this combined led the Lizardmen of Lustria to attack Teclis and his fellow Asur on sight. Blighted Lizards going on about their great plan were getting in the way.

Teclis stopped for a moment as he listened to the Winds of Magic.

"High Loremaster?" The voice of Loremaster Talarian called out. "You noticed that as well?"

"Indeed." Teclis gripped the Moon Staff of Lileath and felt out further. "It appears to come from the Empire of Men as well."

"The humans?" Talarian inquired, his hand gripping his pointed chin. "Was it not one of the servants who recently informed us of the death of their Empress?"

"Again?" Teclis frowned as he rubbed his forehead. "Was it not just recently they changed Emperors again as well? It has been such a long time since I have been there."

"It does feel they change Emperors quickly." Talarian mused with a nod to Teclis. "Though they also apparently came in contact with a new continent as well. They call it 'Fódlan,' I believe."

"A new continent?" The Asur already knew of all the continents of the world, and so too did the Empire of Men. Yet never once in Teclis' centuries did he ever hear of a place called Fódlan. "How did they discover it by chance?"

Talarian motioned over a nearby servant and pulled out a scroll. "Apparently, the humans discovered an ancient archway of Old One technology. A portal much like the ones that formed the poles of the world. Though this gate was uncorrupted by Chaos and stands in the middle of a so-called 'Bloodpine Woods.' According to our records, a local Greenskin shaman activated the gate by accident after a spell misfired."

Now this news was intriguing to Teclis. Not only did the humans tap into an Old One's gate, but in discovering a new land, they found something that could cause a substantial shift in the Winds of Magic. Not just any wind as well, it appeared the wind of Hysh was the one being pulled to the Empire as well. Such a pull rivalled even the Children of the Old ones in pure raw power. Yet it was the Empire that had discovered this source. "Talarian." Teclis looked to his trusted advisor with a frown. "I am sure you are more than capable of continuing the march to the City of the Moon without me?"

"What are you saying, High Loremaster?" Talarian stepped forward with wide eyes. "Are you leaving us to go back to the Empire?"

"For a short time." Teclis nodded as he placed a hand on Talarian. "We both know the dangers Ulthuan faces and the coming tide of Chaos. We both know that the End Times are fast approaching. Should no action be taken, we both can see the world will end."

"And you believe that the answer to combat the coming tides of Chaos rests in this new land?"

"I am sure of it." Teclis smiled as he tried to reassure his advisor.

Talarian closed his eyes and thought for a moment, his musing amused Teclis at times. "Are you certain that this is the best course of action?"

"Would you prefer I try and resurrect the Great necromancer, Nagash?"

"Absolutely not." The response Talarian gave was quite amusing to the High Loremaster. Perhaps he should try and startle him more in the future? Talarian closed his eyes and took a deep breath before looking back at Teclis. "How long will you be gone then?"

"Not too long. If the seas are well, and the vampires along the coast don't delay my arrival, I should return to you in a year."

"That is good." Talarian smiled and bowed to Teclis. "I was afraid this would be another decades-long venture into the Old World, much like your time in the last Great Chaos Invasion."

"When I founded the colleges of magic there?" Teclis mused as he remembered his time. "I quite enjoyed those days. It was rare to see such vigour in students when it came to the study of the arcane. An admirable, feat I must admit."

"As you say, High Loremaster." Talarain frowned at the words of Teclis. Most Asur viewed themselves as superior to every race in the world, so it was hardly shocking that Talarian felt the same way. "Just do not get lost there, High Loremaster."

"I shall not, Talarian." Teclis turned away from Talarian. "I know the duties that fall on my shoulders after all. It is why I returned from the Empire in the first place."

"All the same, High Loremaster, I wish you safe travels." Talarain laid a hand on Teclis' shoulder. "Ulthuan cannot afford to lose one its saviours so soon."

"And it shall not." Teclis made his way to the door and looked back one last time to Talarian. "Make double haste to the City of the Moon, though. Should that Huntsmarshal get there first, our chances to fortify the Vortex go with it."

"And so too the World." Talarian nodded.

Teclis nodded back one last time as he made his way to the docks of his encampment. Whatever the source of this magic was, he needed to know it. The sake of the worlds depended on it.


End file.
